


Snow Over Insomnia

by moonwaif



Series: FFXV College AU [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: College AU, Friends to Lovers, Gladnis, M/M, Multi, Promptis - Freeform, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwaif/pseuds/moonwaif
Summary: Theme: snowed inOnce a year, Shiva blesses Insomnia with snowfall. This year's snow day finds four friends in transition. There's Noctis, who's trying his best to enjoy freshman year. With his best friend Prompto enrolled at a different college, it hasn't been easy. When a particularly controversial lecture puts Noctis on the spot, he says some things he regrets. Can he make amends before their friendship freezes over?Meanwhile, there's Gladiolus, who's finding it increasingly difficult to deny his feelings for coworker and friend Ignis Scientia. The appearance of a mysterious figure from Ignis's past might just be the sign that it's time to come clean. Will Gladio make a move, or will he let the opportunity melt away?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to finish this entire story before Christmas. Oops. Next step: try to finish it before March. I mean, it's snow-themed. That should carry me through the rest of winter, right?
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoy. If you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, I always appreciate it. If there was something you liked in particular, it's always nice to hear that, too!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All characters, locations, basically everything is owned by Square Enix and associated entities. I don't own anything, this is just for free, entertainment purposes.

_**PT. I: 10:12 hours** _

It was a good thing Noctis had remembered to mute his laptop before class started, because he received his first message from Prompto just twelve minutes into the lecture.

 

 

 

 

> **Prompto:** brrrr! Freezing my a$$ off this morning

 

A selfie instantly followed: Prompto in a warm jacket and white beanie, grimacing up at the camera with a steaming coffee cup clutched in his gloved hand.

 

 

 

 

> **Noctis:**  heh. nice pic. whatcha drinking?
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** mocha moogle latte. Yummm ;P
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** all that sugar is gonna give you a headache
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** hahaha yeah, probably. but i need some caffeine. i couldnt sleep all night thinking about that presentation!!!!  ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** so we still getting snowed in tonight?
> 
>  

Noct's smile widened. It wasn’t often that Shiva graced the arid landscape of Lucis with her affections, but at least once a year, snow fell on the city of Insomnia. Sometimes it was a few flakes, sometime just sleet. On rare occasions, such as the one predicted by Insomnian weather channels on this particular day, it was a blizzard.

 

 

 

 

> **Noctis:** heck yeah! hope you're ready to binge some King’s Knight.
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** ugh am i ever. so ready to chill after getting this presentation out of the way…

 

Noctis leaned back in his chair, brow furrowing. He cast a quick glance at projector screen down at the front of the hall: a slide about the Lucian civil war.

 

 

 

>  
> 
> **Noctis:** y? U nervous?’
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** yeah
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** stomach hurts
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** p sure im gonna throw up
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** relax, prom
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** you've been practicing a lot, right?
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** you're gonna be great
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** dude you have no idea what id give to hear you say that rn
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** i wish we still went to the same school
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:**  ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

 

A dull, tight ache formed in the center of Noct's chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the reply coming slower this time.

 

 

 

 

> **Noctis:** me too.
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** yeah...
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** too bad my best friend has to go to a fancy schmancy ivy league school for geniuses (¬‿¬)
> 
>  

Noctis rolled his eyes.

 

 

 

>  
> 
> **Noctis:** im not here cuz im a genius, prom
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** his majesty is sooooo modest ;)
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** srlsy
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** im like most of the ppl here. average.
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** the only genius ive met so far is specs
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** lol youre just saying that to make me feel better
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:** nah. youre way cooler than like half of the people here
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** ♥‿♥
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** too bad i cant afford the tuition lol. id kill to have iggy as my teacher
> 
>  

Noctis glanced up from his computer. From his own seat in the center of the hall, Ignis was just a small figure behind an even smaller podium. Still, Noctis had to admit that Specs was definitely in his element at the front of a classroom. His fitted grey sweater, crisp collar and perfectly coiffed hair were every bit the image of the up-and-coming academian. The freshmen in the front row hung dreamily on every elegant gesture of his gloved hands as his voice rang out through the hall, crisp and clear as water. He said something that sent a murmur of laughter through the rows of desks. Noctis smiled.

 

 

 

 

> **Noctis:** yeah its not bad
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** duh!! hes probably way cooler than all of my professors combined
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** anyway, g2g. Gonna try to run through my presentation one more time before class starts
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)
> 
>  
> 
> **Noctis:**  dont worry prom. Youre gonna kick this presentation in the ass.
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** thanks dude
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompto:** catch ya later
> 
>  

Noctis let his gaze linger on the final message, Iggy’s melodic tones lilting in the background. He tuned in long enough just to get the gist of the topic (ugh - still on the Lucian civil war). He turned his attention back to his laptop and clicked on an open tab, which took him directly to Prompto’s ChocoGram feed. There weren’t any new updates, but that didn’t stop him from smiling as he reviewed some of the earlier posts: Prompto getting ready to dig into a steaming, greasy pizza; a #tbt selfie featuring the baby chocobo they’d helped rescue during their summer road trip to Lestallum; a prank-selfie with a drooling, sleeping Gladio. Noctis chuckled. He’d been there when Prompto had taken that one. Even Gladio had agreed that the shot was just too good not to share.

 

He continued scrolling. A bunch of people Noctis didn't know, probably at a party; a filtered, black-and-white shot of a glistening, neon lit alley; a selfie with some guy Noctis had never seen before; a picture of the school’s mascot, tagged #gocactuars; Prompto wearing glasses…

 

Wait a second.

 

Noctis scrolled back to the photo of Prompto and the stranger. “Hanging with the coolest TA around,” read the caption. Tagged: #whenyourfriendhasthesamemajor, #collegelife #insomniaboys.

 

Friend, huh?

 

Noct’s eyes narrowed. He silently listed off any names he’d heard Prompto mention over the past semester as he analyzed the man’s features: platinum hair; a strong chin; sharp, intelligent eyes whose color he couldn’t quite discern through the ChocoGram filter. He let the cursor hover over the smug, obnoxious grin. A tagged username appeared: “Ghiranzenator.”

 

Before Noctis could really stop to self-reflect, he was scrolling through Ghiranzenator’s feed. It was the kind of content you’d expect from a twenty-something with a pompadour and generic good looks. Gym selfies tagged #fitnesslifestyle; poses in scenic, well-known locations captioned with thought-provoking yet totally irrelevant quotes (ugh, so pretentious). He wondered how Prompto even knew this guy. Was he the TA for one of Prompto’s classes? Did they have mutual friends? If so, why hadn’t Prompto mentioned him before? But now that Noctis thought about it, like _really_ thought about it, he hadn’t really heard Prompto say a whole lot about any of the new friends he was making at school.

 

Wasn't that kind of weird?

 

A crumpled wad of paper plummeted through his thoughts, ricocheting off his forehead. Noct's head snapped in the direction it had come from. His eyes were met by a vision of Gladio, squeezed into a desk barely large enough to accommodate his lanky frame.

 

“ _Pay. Attention_ ,” he mouthed, cocking his head in Iggy’s direction.

 

Noctis scowled. That was the one downside of having his bodyguard disguised as a classmate. Gladio was just all too ready to make sure Noct behaved like a good little student. The plus side was that Noct had at least one friend who could commiserate with his suffering.

 

Like now, for instance. A fan club member from the front row was monologuing, earning exasperated looks from his classmates. Noctis and Gladio exchanged a few muffled snickers.

 

“Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Cleetus,” Ignis cut in, his voice laced with a strain so barely audible that Noct and Gladio were probably the only ones who even picked up on it. “As you have noted for us, it is quite interesting that most rebel demands would be considered centrist by modern standards. However, we should recognize one deconstructionist philosopher whose theories remain polarizing even to this day.”

 

Ignis went to the next slide. A portrait of a wide-jawed man with a face only a mother garula could love brooded down from the display screen.

 

“Oh great,” Noctis muttered, drawing a confused look from Gladio. “Not this guy…”

 

"Regulus Invicta," Ignis continued, "is remembered as one of the strongest advocates for freedom of speech throughout the history of Lucis. However, what is less commonly remembered are his persistent demands for the de-establishment of the monarchy in favor of what we would now refer to as a democratic socialist republic. Even during the Lucian civil war, Invicta was a controversial figure. At first his philosophies were embraced by the deconstructionists, who sought to overthrow the Lucis Caelums in favor of a fragmented nation-states ruled by regional noblemen. They were less in favor of his leanings toward a democratic socialist republic. Despite this difference of opinion, Invicta was one of the few intellectuals of his time that insisted on the right of deconstructionists to espouse their ideals without punishment or censorship. Unfortunately, this insistence, combined with his involvement with radical circles, led to his eventual imprisonment. He would die of consumption shortly thereafter.”

 

A hand shot up - the same wind-bag from before.

 

“Yes, Cleetus?” Ignis’s smile was tight.

 

“Professor Scientia, as you were speaking I couldn’t help but remember an essay I came across in the Lucian History Journal the other day. The article was about the evolution of Lucian collective memory of the civil war.”

 

Gladio chuckled. “Oh boy. Here he goes again. This guy really can’t stop himself, can he?”

 

Noctis wasn’t laughing. He wanted Ignis to get back on topic and finish explaining why Invicta and the deconstructionists were wrong.

 

“According to the arguments propounded throughout the essay” - Gladio actually snorted at this point - “collective opinion regarding Invicta and the deconstructionists split after Lucis became a constitutional monarchy. Invicta was distanced from the deconstructionists and by means of propaganda -”

 

Bells went off in Noct’s head. Propaganda? What was this guy trying to get at?

 

“ - and state sanctioned school curriculum -”

 

Noctis gripped the arms of his desk, knuckles whitening.

 

“ - Invicta gradually became celebrated as one of the fathers of free speech. Meanwhile, his links to deconstructionists were covered up, preventing further instability to Lucian society while conveniently appropriating the parts that aligned with contemporary values.”

 

He paused for a breath. Ignis stepped out from behind the podium, quick to seize back control of the conversation.

 

“Your statements indicate a very post-modern interpretation of the historical records, Cleetus,” he remarked politely. “It’s interesting that you bring up social instability. Although not as commonly espoused today, there are ideologues who from time to time self-identify as deconstructionists. However, they are often ridiculed by both leftists and conservatives, rarely gaining any political legitimacy. In this way, the general public remains largely unexposed to contemporary deconstructionism outside of the occasional satirical representation on late night TV shows or the funnies.”

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

 

There was a rustle as heads turned in Noct's direction. Ignis adjusted his glasses.

 

“Is there something you would like to share, Prince Noctis?”

 

Shit. Gladio slid down low in his seat, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “Smooth move, Noct.”

 

Noctis cleared his throat. His cheeks felt like two flames. “N- not particularly.”

 

“Very well.” Ignis returned his attention to the slides. Noctis averted his eyes, only to be met by the expectant gazes coming his way from the next row down. His gaze happened to fall on Cleetus, he shot him a particularly snide smirk from over his shoulder. 

 

Something in Noctis snapped.

 

“It’s just that, you said ‘satirical.’”

 

Ignis stopped mid-sentence. Scandalized whispers rippled throughout the hall. Gladio was actually facepalming. Meanwhile, Noctis’s cheeks somehow managed to get even hotter. He felt the need to continue.

 

“I just thought - well, it sounds like you think those depictions are kind of inaccurate, or something.”

 

Gods, he was sounding extremely upset and defensive right now, wasn’t he? What had happened to all that training in diplomacy and public speaking? Embarrassing.

 

“Satire is merely a genre, your highness," Ignis demured. "One that hyperbolizes a real-life topic or theme with intent to criticize, ridicule or expose. We may identify this genre from a neutral standpoint without either validating or condemning the arguments contained within the work itself.”

 

Noctis schooled his expression so it’d look like he’d understood this last bit.

 

“But you said the satirical representation is the only representation people see. Doesn’t that imply that there’s another representation that most people don’t get to see?”

 

“There normally is more than one side to every story,” Ignis said lightly, and his lips curved in such a smug, handsome grin that Noctis could have chucked his laptop at him.

 

“Yeah, but sometimes one side has better evidence than the other one. Shouldn’t that also be part of the discussion?”

 

He was pressuring Ignis to agree with him, to say that the deconstructionists were “wrong” and the monarchy was “right” and therefore Noctis was right, too. That the deconstructionists were just radical, terrorist nutjobs whose hogwash theories did more harm than good, so why even bother discussing them at all? Noctis knew it. Gladio knew it. Most of all, Ignis probably knew it.

 

So why were they still disagreeing?

 

“Indeed. However, the objective of today’s lecture is merely to review the deconstructionism as an historical movement. I will leave the evaluation of the ideas espoused by said movement to all of you in your term papers.”

 

A smattering of chuckles. Oh yes, how adorable, how clever. Noctis opened his mouth to let loose another retort when Gladio nudged his foot.

 

" _Let it go_ ," he mouthed with a slight shake of his head. Noctis grit his teeth with an audible “tch,” nails biting into the surface of his palms. He deliberately avoided Gladio’s gaze, instead fixing his attention on his laptop. The Ghiranzenator taunted him from the other side of the screen, all chiseled jawline and knowing smile.

 

Noctis closed the laptop with a ‘snap.’

 

* * *

 

_**PT. II: 13:00 hours**_

“I was too hard on him, wasn’t I?”

 

The words were out of Ignis’s mouth before Gladio had even stepped through the door. The office was tiny - more like a closet, really. Gladio tossed a small paper bag onto the desk and pulled up a seat, careful not to spill the coffee in his other hand.

 

“What’s this?” Ignis asked, peering owlishly from behind his computer. Gladio handed over the coffee.

 

“Thought you could use a pick-me up," he replied. "And nah; Noct is tough. He gets worse from me during an average training session.”

 

“You’re just saying that,” Ignis mumbled, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “Mmm, Gladio, this is delicious. Thank you.”

 

Gladio crossed his legs, leaning back with a pleased smile. “Heh. Thought you’d like that. And no, I’m not just saying that. Noct is pissed off, but he’ll live. Try some of the scone.”

 

Ignis reached into the paper bag obediently. “I should have waited until after class,” he muttered. “Or warned him about the topic before hand.”

 

“Yeah, that probably would’ve helped.”

 

“I just don’t want to allow him more special privileges than I already have! How am I supposed to prepare him for his future responsibilities if I keep treating him differently from the other students? Can you imagine, just last night he actually asked me to check his homework!”

 

“Did you?”

 

“What do you think?” Ignis snapped. “We live together for Eos’s sake, of course I did!"

 

“Yikes. How’s the scone?”

 

Ignis scowled. “You really must stop bringing me sugar. This is why my skin is breaking out.”

 

“One bite won’t hurt, prince charming.”

 

Ignis broke a off a tiny piece and popped it into his mouth, but not before shooting Gladio a glare.

 

“Relax, Iggy. Just give Noct a little time to cool down, think things through. He’ll come around.”

 

Ignis gave him a doubtful look. He took another bite.

 

“At least this scone is palatable.”

 

Gladio flashed him a cheeky smile. “Does that mean you’ll raise my grade professor?”

 

“I’ll consider it. After all, for an auditing student you do have unusually consistent attendance.”

 

“Someone’s gotta show up and keep the crown prince in line. Who better than his protector and professional babysitter, the royal shield?”

 

“Pity you have to sit through my lectures. I imagine it’s dull.”

 

“Nah. You’re way more interesting than the profs I had during my undergrad.”

 

‘A lot easier on the eyes, too,’ he thought. His gaze lingered on Ignis’s full, rosy lips before silently flickering away.

 

“There’s no need for flattery, Gladio. It’s not like I can actually give you credit for the course.”

 

“Sorry. Guess your little front row fan club is wearing off on me.”

 

Ignis reddened. He took a hurried sip of coffee, obviously stalling. Gladio grinned, letting himself indulge in the rare sight of a flustered Ignis.

 

“If the students show enthusiasm,” Ignis began, once he’d finished composing himself, “it is merely due to the engaging nature of the subject.”

 

“Oh, right. Lucian history makes me blush and squeal, too.”

 

“Did you come here for the sole purpose of force feeding me scones and distracting me from my work?”

 

“Why, is it working? Just kidding,” he added quickly at the stern look he received. “Actually, I thought we should touch base on our lovely royal charge’s training schedule over the Solstice. Iris has been bugging me about plans. She wants to invite the entire Amicitia clan over for a get-together.”

 

“Let me pull up my calendar.” Ignis swiveled in his chair, facing the computer monitor. Gladio contemplated his profile, thrown into sharp relief by the glow of the LED back-light. A million potential lines ran through his head. ‘It should be illegal to be so gorgeous.’ ‘You ever seen an angel up close? Because those cheekbones are high enough to graze the heavens.’

 

“Got any plans for the Solstice, Iggy?”

 

“I’m hoping to finish drafting my thesis proposal,” Ignis answered, with a light click of the mouse. “I’d also like to try my hand at a leiden sweet potato casserole. See if I can get Prince Noctis to eat something other than meat for a change.”

 

Gladio snickered. “Good luck with that last one. By the way, what’s your thesis about again? Food politics - “

 

“ - with Duscae as a case study for increased multifunctionality in agricultural policy making, yes.” Ignis spared him a brief glance, eyes crinkled with amusement. “I’m impressed you remember.”

 

‘Course I do,’ Gladio thought dismally. ‘I’ve Moogle searched every article you’ve ever published.’

 

Fortunately, he was spared the need to reply. One more click of the mouse, and Ignis was tilting the monitor in his direction.

 

“There we are. So, which dates does Iris have in mind?”

 

“She’s really got her eyes set on the day of the Solstice, as well the day right before and after. She needs me to help cook, put out decorations…”

 

‘Basically all the stuff we used to do when mom was around,’ he thought.

 

“I see. Why don’t I just make a note on my calendar for now? We can continue meeting as planned for the next two weeks. When it comes time, we'll evaluate how Noct is doing. Perhaps it won’t even be necessary for us to meet over the week of the Solstice.”

 

“Thanks Iggy. I appreciate it.”

 

“Certainly. It’s imperative that you spend quality time with your family over the holidays, uninterrupted.”

 

His smile was sad. Of course; Ignis didn't really have any family around to celebrate with. Gladio jiggled his knee, hesitating.

 

“H-hey, Iggy,” he began cautiously. “Y’know, if you don’t have any plans for the Solstice, you’re always welcome to - “

 

“Ah, Ignis! Just the man I was looking for.”

 

Ignis stood as two people Gladiolus had never seen before entered the office. The first was an attractive, bespectacled woman with golden hair swept back in an elegantly casual updo. Gladio, always the gentleman, rose instantly to his feet, pushing in his chair and squeezing back against the bookshelf in an effort to free up some space for her in the tiny room. She was followed by a pale young man who stood shoulder to shoulder with Gladiolus, which was a rare enough occurrence. What was really odd was Ignis's reaction. He blanched as the man entered. Then he was turning away to face the woman, almost as if he'd never even noticed the other visitor at all.

 

“Dr. Trepe! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

Her lips curved in a perfect cupid’s bow. “Ignis, dear, how many times must I remind you? Call me Quistis. Anyway, I was just giving Prince Ravus a tour of the department.” She gestured toward the man beside her.

 

Oh - so that’s why he looked familiar. Gladio had often seen the royal Nox Fleuret duo on magazine covers or on TV. Ravus cut a striking figure in person, with his wintry complexion and dual colored eyes. He seemed to resent being watched, interrupting Gladio’s examination with a peculiarly frigid glare.

 

“Prince Ravus will be joining our department as a research scholar next semester,” Quistis explained. “Your majesty, Ignis is a grad student and TA in our department. As you may be aware, he also serves as the royal advisor to Crown Prince Noctis. He’s quite the feather in the department’s cap.”

 

Gladio beamed, eyeing Ignis with pride. What he saw surpirsed him. Iggy’s shoulders were tense, his face frozen in a mask of false politeness.

 

Something was wrong.

 

“Thank you, Dr. Trepe. As it stands, I’ve already had the good fortune of making Mr. Scientia’s acquaintance.”

 

Gladio’s eyes snapped in Ravus’s direction. His expression was unreadable, but his tone of voice suggested that whatever fortune had been at play was anything but “good.”

 

“Indeed.” Ignis mustered a weak smile. “I’m honored _his highness_ remembers me.”

 

Ravus flinched, the movement so quick it was barely perceptible. Gladio glanced between them. Whatever vibe was going on here, he didn't like it one bit. He asked the question before he could stop himself.

 

“How do you two know each other?”

 

 Ignis gasped. “Oh, by the six - where are my manners? Dr. Trepe - “

 

“Quistis.”

 

“Quistis” - Ignis blushed - “and Prince Ravus, please allow me to introduce Gladiolus Amicitia, Prince Noctis’s sworn shield, as well as one of my dearest friends.”

 

Gladio’s chest swelled until it threatened to burst. He crossed his arms, lip quirking up into a satisfied smirk.

 

'Dearest friend, huh?'

 

“I see,” Quistis murmured, tapping her chin. Her eyes ran up and down Gladio’s frame with an openly appraising look. “I apologize for interrupting your discussion, Gladiolus. I doubt we made a very good impression.”

 

“Meeting a colleague of Iggy’s is never an imposition,” Gladio assured her. “Especially not when that colleague is as elegant and beautiful as yourself.”

 

Quistis blushed, blue eyes sparkling behind her spectacles. “I never imagined the royal shield was such a charmer. You’ll have to bring him around more often, Ignis.”

 

There was a momentary, infinitesimal fracture in Ignis’s facade. “Yes, well, I daren’t keep his majesty any longer," he said quickly. "I’m sure you’re both quite eager to continue the tour. Prince Ravus, it truly was a pleasure seeing you again. I look forward to our collaboration in the coming semester.”

 

“As do I,” Ravus snapped, his words laced with such venom that even Quistis sent him a mildly startled look. “Dr. Trepe, shall we?”

 

“C-certainly. Gladiolus, it was a pleasure. And Ignis, we’ll be seeing you tonight at the reception, won’t we?”

 

“Of course. The Grand Hotel Insomnia at six o’ clock, correct?”

 

“Not exactly ideal weather for an event, is it?” Gladio interjected, frowning. “The roads are supposed to freeze after seven.”

 

Ignis dismissed him with a breezy laugh. “Yes, well, you know what they say Gladio - the show must go on! Until tonight then, Dr. Trepe...Prince Ravus.”

 

He bowed at the waist. Gladio rushed to follow suit, but not before glimpsing the pain that flashed across the prince’s strange, distant eyes. Then he was gone, sweeping off down the hall without a word of acknowledgement. Quistis rushed after him. Gladio waited until he no longer heard the clicking of her high heels before he spoke.

 

“What was that all about?”

 

Ignis began fussing with the papers on his desk. “Dr. Trepe was introducing the newest addition to our department.”

 

“Who you just happen to already know.”

 

“Is that so odd? You and I often cross paths with royalty in our line of work.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Gladio approached the desk, leaning over and splaying both hands across the surface. “So, you gonna tell me how you two actually know each other?”

 

“I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours,” Ignis replied, voice unusually clipped. Gladio ignored the sting.

 

“I’m just curious - y’know, as a dear friend and colleague. Why so defensive?”

 

Ignis slammed down a folder, nostrils flaring. “Fine. Spring 752. I did a semester in Tenebrae. Prince Ravus was a student at the university. We made acquaintance.”

 

“And?”

 

“And what?”

 

Gladio shrugged. “Dunno. Just thought I sensed some hostility between you two.”

 

“Enough, Gladio!”

 

The outburst stunned them both. Gladio took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, trying fiercely not to look as hurt as he felt. After a long moment of silence, Ignis heaved a sigh.

 

“Forgive me, Gladio. It’s just a rather...unpleasant story, if I’m being honest. I wasn’t expecting to meet him like this, and...I’d rather not talk about it all just yet.”

 

Gladio chuckled harshly. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one being the asshole here. Sticking my nose in your business. But if you ever do feel like talking about it, or there’s any way I can help...just let me know.”

 

“Thank you, Gladio,” he said softly, and the smile he turned on him was so full of warmth and relief that it hurt to look at.

 

Gladio hurried to change the subject.

 

“You sure you’re good to go to this reception thing? Ravus will probably be there, too.”

 

“I’ll be fine. I merely need a moment to compose myself. I do apologize I won’t be able to join you at the gym today. I was quite looking forward to showing off my new gains.”

 

He wiggled his eyebrows. Gladio snorted.

 

“Save it for next time, hot shot. But seriously, Iggy - the roads are supposed to get pretty bad tonight. Call me if you need a ride.”

 

“Certainly; I’m sure Dr. Trepe would just love it if you popped by.”

 

“Iggy.”

 

“Don’t worry; I promise I’ll behave myself.”

 

“You better. Don’t wanna go setting a bed example for Noct.”

 

Ignis’s smile fell. Gladio rolled his eyes, reaching for the half-eaten pastry on the desk.

 

“Talk to ‘im,” he said through a mouthful of scone. “Better yet, feed him and then talk. He’s always in a better mood when his stomach’s full.”

 

“Oh Gladio.” Ignis shook his head. “If only I could be as certain as you are.”

 

‘But I’m not certain,’ Gladio thought to himself. The uncertainty followed him as he took his leave, wandering through the empty halls of the department alone. Noct could be stubborn, and Ignis had a tendency to cave in. Hopefully they'd be able to come to terms without too much of a fuss.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didnt see the figure rounding the corner, hurtling straight at him. He barely managed to come to a stop before they collided.

 

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed, stumbling backward. “My bad, are you - ?”

 

The charity in his voice withered and died as he looked up into the face of the passerby.

 

Ravus Nox Fleuret.

 

“Ahem. Pardon me, your majesty.” He stepped aside, the polite gesture a reflex after so many years as a retainer. Ravus, however, stood quite still, eyes fixed on Gladio intently - almost as if he were measuring him up.

 

Gladio’s jaw clenched.

 

“There a problem, highness?”

 

Ravus looked away, making a soft, dismissive noise in the back of his throat. He strode past Gladio with his nose held high, sharp footsteps echoing off the walls like a hailstorm. Gladio’s eyes narrowed, gaze following him over his shoulder. The uneasy feeling was back, creeping up from the pit of his stomach like clutching vines.

 

Whatever history Ravus and Iggy had together, Gladio had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the good kind.

 

He tore himself away with a sigh.

 

“Forget about it,” he muttered firmly. “Iggy can handle himself. It’s not like you have any say in the matter, anyway.”

 

Still, it was a good thing he kept a spare set of clothes locked up at the campus rec facility. He was gonna need an extra challenging workout today.

 

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and reviews on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one as well. I'm still working on writing the next chapter, so it might be a bit before the next update.
> 
> As always, I appreciate feedback, and am grateful for any comments I receive.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All characters, locations, basically everything is owned by Square Enix and associated entities. I don't own anything, this is just for free, entertainment purposes.

 

 

 

 

_**PT. III: 15:45 hours**  _

 

Noctis could tell his uncle was back the second he got off the elevator; the muffled music vibrating through the hall announced his presence. He gave the door a light push, already knowing what he’d find within: Ardyn draped over the couch, wearing a long, raggy house coat and drinking wine straight from the bottle. His head lolled back against the arm of the coach, eyes closed and oblivious to his nephew’s arrival.

****

Noctis walked straight to stereo and punched the “off” button. The sudden silence roused Ardyn from his stupor.

****

“Well, well. If it isn’t my dearest nephew!”

****

Noctis slung his backpack from his shoulders. “I’m your only nephew. How long you staying this time?”

****

“A few days, a few weeks - who knows.” He took a long drink from the bottle, swallowing with a grimace. “This last tour left me feeling particularly uninspired. I need time to re-channel my creative energies. Where better to do just that than Insomnia, my home?”

 

Normally Noctis liked having his uncle around. It didn’t happen extremely often. Ardyn was usually in the hospital or on tour with his band. On the occasions that he did pop in for a visit, it always felt like having an eccentric older brother slash next-door neighbor. It also meant putting up with his uncle’s neediness and extravagance.

 

Today, Noctis wasn’t really in the mood.

****

“Can’t you rechannel in your own apartment?” he groused.

****

“That’s not very neighborly of you, Noct.”

****

Noctis ignored him, heading toward the kitchen. He pulled a soda out of the fridge and gulped down such a large mouthful that his chest burned.

****

It was no coincidence that Ardyn and Noctis were neighbors. In fact, it was the only reason Regis had allowed Noctis to move out of the palace in the first place - well, that and the fact that Iggy had agreed to be Noct’s roommate. With the entire apartment building belonging to Ardyn and security guards posted around every corner, it was hard for Noctis to get up to much trouble without the Citadel hearing about it.

****

He took another drink of soda.

****

“Sorry,” he muttered gruffly. “Long day. Lots of classes.”

****

“Oh yes; I forget, you’re a ‘college boy’ now. Are you enjoying my alma mater?”

****

“I guess.”

****

“I hope they’re teaching you children to be good, obedient little civilians. What do they have you majoring in, anyway?

 

An image of Ignis at the podium flashed across Noct’s vision. “Political science,” he ground out.

****

“How dreadful. Still, you’re better off than I was. To think, back then I actually intended to become a doctor. Laughable.” The bottle sloshed noisily. “By the way, when does that little chef friend of yours get home? I'm famished."

****

Noct's jaw tightened. He returned to the living room, plopping into an armchair across from the couch. He glanced at his uncle, dismayed to see the heavy bags under his eyes, the sallow complexion of his cheeks.

****

“Should you really be drinking during a flare-up?” he asked, eyes flickering toward the half-empty bottle.

****

Ardyn laughed drily. “If you’re going to act like my doctor, I hope you don’t plan on sending me a bill.”

****

“Uncle.”

****

“I’m fine,” he said pointedly. “They call it chronic it for a reason, Noct; none of this can kill me.”

****

Noctis frowned, but held his tongue. His uncle’s condition had been a touchy subject as far back as he could remember. In fact, all the Lucis Caelums tended to be tight-lipped about the health issues that plagued their line. After all, it wouldn’t do for the public to see the royal family as feeble or sickly, not when kings needed to be virile and strong. Even Ardyn, who turned a middle finger up at most courtly conventions, rarely commented on his own health in public.

****

Noctis didn't want to think about it.

****

“Anyway…” Ardyn rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “It’s obvious something’s troubling you. Spill the beans.”

****

Before Noctis could even attempt to answer, his phone rang. He answered immediately.

****

“Dude, I just saw your text! What happened?”

****

Noctis felt his shoulders relax. “Hey, Prom.”

****

He could hear raucous laughter on the other end of the line. Something clattered loudly in the background.

****

“Sounds like there’s a party going on over there,” Noctis noted, smiling.

****

Prompto laughed nervously. “Oh, y-yeah. Sorry about that. We’re at the karaoke. My buddy Dino Ghiranze’s birthday.”

 

Ghiranze? As in, the "Ghiranzenator"?

****

Noct's smile fell.

****

“Kind of early for a birthday party, isn’t it?” he asked, shifting in his chair. He could feel Ardyn watching him closely.

****

“Yeah, well, they’re just hanging out here until the clubs open, then everyone’s going bar hopping.”

****

“Heh. You, uh, never mentioned you had other plans.” Noctis scratched his ear, struggling to find the right words. “You gonna join them?”

****

“Of course not! We’re getting snowed in at your place, remember?”

****

“Yeah, but...it sounds kinda fun. We could go too, if you want.”

****

‘And, I don’t know, maybe you could actually introduce me to some of your other friends for a change,’ he thought to himself.

****

“No way!” Prompto exclaimed quickly - too quickly. “And miss up on the opportunity to kick your ass at King’s Night? Hello no, I’ve been looking forward to that all week! Besides, you hate going out, and the weather is supposed to be total shit. That's a no for me. But dude, back to your text. I wanna know what happened with Iggy! You sounded pissed off.”

****

Noctis sighed. He let his head fall back against the chair.

****

“It was just really weird. He started talking about this anti-monarchy stuff in class today for no reason, but he never really -”

****

“WHAT? Sorry can you say all that again, I didn’t hear you!”

****

“He started talking about anti-monarchy stuff,” Noctis repeated loudly. Ardyn snickered.

****

“What?! Dude, that IS weird.”

****

“I know, right?! I wish you would’ve been there Prom. It was like he was actually trying to defend these guys -”

****

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Look, dude, give me a sec, I’m on the phone.”

****

A muffled voice was yammering on in the background. Noct's lips thinned. He wondered if it was Dino.

****

“Sorry about that Noct!” Prompto shouted, returning to the phone. “But yeah, that definitely sounds wild. Did you talk to Iggy about it yet?”

****

“I mean, I asked him a few questions in class,” Noctis admitted, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. “He just dodged it all with some academic mumbo jumbo.”

****

“Really?" Prompto sounded doubtful. "That doesn’t sound like Ignis. He’s like, the most thoughtful guy I know. I don’t think he’d say something without having a good reason for it. Plus, he works for the Citadel, so...maybe he's just trying to teach you guys -”

****

A burst of laughter exploded in the background, drowning out the end of Prompto’s sentence. Noctis’s grip tightened around the phone.

****

“Teach us what?” he demanded. “That people who’d like to waste thousands of lives and destroy all of our infrastructure in a civil war should get an equal say?”

****

“Noct, you know that’s not what I - Six, Selphie, can you watch where you’re swinging that thing?! Look, just hang on a sec, I’m still on the phone...Noct. Hey, Noct, can you still hear me?” He was practically bellowing now, voice raised over a roaring chorus of ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.’

****

Noctis didn’t answer.

****

“Look, Noct, I just think you gotta try to see it from Iggy’s point of view! He’s probably just, I don’t know, trying to broaden your horizons or something! Dude, stop, I told you stop swinging -”

****

For the second time that day, something in Noctis snapped.

****

“Are you kidding me?" He leapt to his feet, too indignant to stay still. "He was talking about radical terrorists who’d like see me and my family dead. Don’t you realize how fucked up that is? I can’t believe you’re actually taking his side!”

****

“Easy, Noct,” Ardyn murmured. “You’ll disturb the neighbors if you keep shouting.”

****

“Noct, I’m not taking anyone side!” Prompto’s tone was pleading. “I just think that Iggy -”

****

“Forget it. My uncle’s here, I gotta go.”

****

“Noct -”

****

“Enjoy the party.”

****

He hung up and threw the phone down on the coffee table.

****

“My, my. What a temper! Is that really what’s got you so worked up?”

 

Ardyn’s smile was sardonic, but his gaze was surprisingly tender. Noctis didn't answer. He was too busy already regretting his outburst.

 

“People have despised those who rule since time immemorial, Noctis. You shouldn’t let it trouble you.”

****

“You don’t get it.” Noct's voice was raspy with anger and frustration. “I had to defend our family by myself, in front of the entire class. And they just _laughed_ about it like my life is some kind of joke.”

****

"What life? To them, you’re the prince, not a human being. You exist to serve _the people,_  or did you forget, your majesty?”

****

The last words were spoken softly, almost pityingly. Noctis clenched his fists.

****

“But Ignis and Prompto aren’t ‘the people.’”

****

Ardyn raised himself from the couch, emitting a single, brittle laugh. “True friends are hard to come by for men of no consequence such as you and I, Noct,” he said, strolling over and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid that’s something you’ll learn in time.”

****

The hand fell away, leaving Noct weary and cold. Ardyn strode to the door. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

****

Noct listened to the creak open, then thud shut. A few seconds later came the ding of the elevator as it whisked Ardyn away to his penthouse suite. He suddenly realized he’d been sweating. He ran a hand across his forehead, glancing at his phone on the coffee table. Part of him hoped that it would vibrate with another call from Prompto.

****

It didn’t.

 

It was then that Noctis remembered. He hadn't asked Prompto about the presentation.

****

* * *

 

**_PT. IV: 16:10 hours_  **

****

The only thing worse than having a crush on your best friend was having a crush on your coworker. The only thing worse than _that_  was a nosy little sister who knew about it.

****

“What’s wrong with you?” Iris demanded, interrupting what had up til then been a mostly silent car ride. “I’ve been playing Catoblepunk ever since we hit this traffic jam, and you haven’t complained once!”

****

“Sorry,” Gladio muttered, glancing in the side mirror. “Just got a lot of stuff on my mind.”

****

“Stuff on your mind, huh?” Iris flashed him a devilish grin. “Stuff like Ignis?”

****

It was a good thing the car wasn’t moving, because Gladio’s foot slammed so hard against the brake pedal that it definitely would have caused a pile-up.

****

“Not funny, Iris!”

****

“Sorry, sorry.” She snickered behind her hand, not sounding sorry _at all_. “Looks like I was right though, huh?”

****

Gladio made a low, grumbling sound. She was kind of right. He hadn’t been thinking about Ignis exactly. Instead, he'd been thinking about Ravus. The prince had been heading in the same direction as Ignis’s office when they’d ran into each other at the department. In fact, if he kept going he’d walk right by it. He wouldn’t have gone back to talk to Ignis, right? Not after that awkward exchange they’d all been forced to experience. But even if he did, Ignis would be able to hold his own.

****

Wouldn't he?

****

Iris patted his arm soothingly.

****

“Aw, Gladdy. You got it bad, don’t you?”

****

“Iris, I swear to -”

****

“Just tell him how you feel!”

****

“It’s not that simple." He had to raise his voice over his sister's trash playlist. “We’re colleagues, Iris.”

****

“So?”

****

“So, it wouldn’t be professional. Besides…” His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Iggy’s my friend. I don’t wanna mess that up.”

****

“Maybe it wouldn’t mess it up, though. Maybe you’d sweep him off his feet and live happily ever after!”

****

A vision of a rosy-cheeked Ignis pressed against his chest rose to Gladio’s mind. The car felt suddenly claustrophobic. He cracked a window.

****

“Seriously, I don’t get you!” Iris crossed her arms with a pouty frown. “Normally, you’re so gross and flirty it’s embarrassing! What happened to all that confidence?”

****

“Because it’s not just anyone, Iris!” His voice was practically a roar inside the SUV. “It’s Ignis Fucking Scientia!” He broke off with an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’d really prefer not to talk about this kind of thing with you, okay? Save the gossip for your little girly friends.”

****

“Hmph. Fine. But roll your window down some more. Your gym bag stinks!”

****

“Roll your own window down!”

****

“It’s too cold!’

****

Gladio lowered the driver’s side window.

****

“You sure can be annoying.”

****

She jerked her head in his direction. “What?!”

****

Thankfully, Gladio’s phone chose that moment to ping. He snatched it up from the ashtray.

****

“Hang on, just got a text.”

****

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to text and drive? Let me see it.”

****

Not wanting to set a bad example, Gladio unlocked the phone and handed it over.

****

“Don’t open the message yet,” he cautioned. “Just tell me who it’s from first.”

****

“Prompto. Should I open it?”

****

“...all right.”

****

“Okay. It says, ‘Just got off the phone with Noct. Sounded upset. My phone is dying by the way.’”

****

Gladio heaved a sigh. “Looks like our precious prince is still throwing a temper tantrum. Tell Prompto not to worry, just let Noct cool down for a while.”

****

“Okay. Message sent!” Iris returned the phone back to the ashtray. “So Gladdy, what’s going on with Noct? Is everything ok?”

****

“If you’re so worried about him, go ahead and give him a call,” Gladio suggested innocently. “I’m sure hearing your voice would perk him right on up.”

****

The tips of her ears were beet red. “Shut up!”

****

“Oh, I’m sorry; did I strike a nerve?” Gladio chuckled, his own troubles momentarily forgotten. “My bad.”

****

“You’re such a meanie!”

****

“Yeah, yeah; I know.”

****

Iris grumbled something under her breath that Gladio chose to his ignore. His eyes drifted to his phone sitting in the ashtray.

****

First Ignis and Noctis, then Ignis and Ravus. Whatever was going on with Iggy, Gladio hoped it would all work out soon.

****

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On next week's episode, Ignis and Noctis confront each other over dinner. Meanwhile, Gladio gets an unexpected request.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commented and left kudos on the last chapter! I'm having a lot of fun writing this fic, and when readers interact with me, it makes it even more fun. I'll be continuing to edit this chapter over the next couple days b/c I have no beta and that's how I do things, so I apologizes for any mistakes. As always I am happy to hear your thoughts and opinions. If you leave me a review, it will make my day!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter~
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All characters, locations, basically everything is owned by Square Enix and associated entities. I don't own anything, this is just for free, entertainment purposes.

**PT. V: 17:25 hours**

 

Regis had always told Noctis it was rude to play on his cell phone at the dinner table. Thankfully, Noctis wasn't eating dinner with Regis tonight.

 

“How’s the baramundi?” Ignis asked lightly. “I tried a new kind of garlic.”

 

“It’s fine,” Noctis said, checking his phone again. Damn; still no new messages.

 

“Hmm, good to know. I’ll have to experiment more with other recipes.” He paused. “Is everything all right, Noct? You seem rather...preoccupied.”

 

Noctis closed the messenger app and placed his phone face down against the table. He took another bite of baramundi.

 

“Headache,” he replied mechanically.

 

“I’m sorry to hear you’re not feeling well. Have you taken anything for it?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“I see. I’ll get you something before I go.”

 

For the first time since he’d sat down for dinner, Noctis actually looked up from his plate. “You’re going out? Tonight?”

 

“For a bit. I have some work obligations.” He flashed a small, rueful smile. “I hope to be back before the weather hits.”

 

Noctis watched him, frowning. He wanted to tell Ignis to dress warm; to be careful driving back; to not drink too much or stay out too late. Instead, he glanced back down at his phone.

 

“Expecting a call?” Ignis asked, tone polite.

 

“No. Not really.” He poked at his food. “Just...waiting on Prompto.”

 

“I see. Is he coming over?”

 

“Dunno.” A painful lump swelled in Noctis’s throat, constricting his voice. He swallowed hard. “Guess so.”

 

He’d reached out to Prompto twice since since that disastrous phone call. First, he’d tried calling back with no success - the call had gone straight to voicemail. He'd thought about texting, but hadn't been sure what to say. After drafting various messages, he'd finally settled on this gem:

 

> **Noctis** : how was the presentation ?
> 
>  

He'd yet to receive a response.

 

‘He’s probably not even coming over anymore,’ Noctis thought, stabbing dismally at a fried potato. ‘Probably too pissed off at me, or maybe having too much fun out clubbing with _Dino_ …’

 

Silence fell over the dining table, broken only by the sounds of chewing and silverware scraping across plates. Ignis laid down his fork.

 

“Noct...we need to talk.”

 

Noctis elected to be clueless. “About what?”

 

“About...what happened today. Are you sure everything is alright between us?”

 

Ignis’s shoulders looked tense. It was obvious broaching this subject was causing him discomfort.

 

Good.

 

Noctis shrugged. “Everything's alright on my side.”

 

“I’m relieved to hear that. After the discussion in class, I was afraid I might have created a misunderstanding.”

 

Noctis could feel frustration building behind his temples, like a river rising behind a dam - the first sign of a migraine.

 

"Huh," he said. "Don't know why you'd think that."

 

“Well, I’m still relatively...new at teaching in a university setting,” Ignis confessed, shifting in his seat. “Facilitating discussion while staying on track with the curriculum is still a challenge for me.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Noctis speared a hunk of fillet. “You kind let the discussion get off topic there.”

 

“I suppose you’re referring to our brief chat regarding deconstructionism.”

 

“Yeah.” Another jab of the fork. “That one.”

 

“Perhaps you’re right. However, as a teacher I didn’t want to shut down a potential teaching moment before it had a chance to flourish.”

 

For the third time that day, something inside Noctis snapped.

 

“Teaching moment?” he repeated, voice rising with each syllable. “What exactly about that moment was teachable?! You never once contradicted any of it, or offered another narrative. You just - you just…”

 

He flung out his arm in an exaggerated gesture, at a complete loss for words. Ignis briefly closed his eyes. When they flickered open, they gazed at Noctis without wavering.

 

“I'm a professor, Noctis," he explained patiently. "I can't tell students how they should think, no matter my own feelings on the matter.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you have to rollover and let your class turn into a platform for radical ideologies!”

 

“Noct, I understand that differing views can be upsetting -”

 

Noctis leaned over the table. “Differing views?” he repeated, aghast. “Some of these people tried to _murder_ the royal family in their day, and you call that _differing views_? What the hell, Iggy. You’re supposed to be my friend!”

 

“I am your friend, Noct,” Ignis insisted, his voice rising to match Noctis's own. “But I’m also your professor and royal advisor, and I wouldn’t be much of either if I didn’t try to prepare you for the challenges ahead!”

 

“Trust me - I’m already well aware of the ‘challenges,'" Noctis sneered. "I’ve had to deal with it everyday for as long as I can remember. Do you have any idea what it’s like to grow up like that? Hearing every politician and rando off the street talk like they can do my dad’s job better than he can, and just having to sit there and grit my teeth and bear it -”

 

He broke off, eyes bleary and burning. Ignis waited, saying nothing as Noctis fought to regain some semblance of composure.

 

“I shouldn’t have to take that crap from my friends, too,” he said at last, blinking furiously.

 

“Noctis…” Ignis’s gaze was tender. “You know I’d never do anything to intentionally cause you pain. However, it is my job to inform you of all pertinent public affairs and opinions, even the less flattering ones. It’s...uncomfortable for me as well, I assure you, but ignoring dissenting voices will only fester discontentment among the people, putting you at risk for more dangers down the road. If we don’t acknowledge -”

 

“I get it!” The words burst forth, ragged and bitter. Ignis sank back in his seat a little, mouth snapping shut like a locked drawer. Noctis averted his gaze, teeth clenched in an ugly grimace as he struggled to hold himself together.

 

“I get it,” he said again, softer this time. “You’re just doing your job. What I don’t get is why you’re going out of your way to defend _their_ side without even mentioning anything good that the monarchy does. I mean, you’re _employed_ by the crown, for Astral’s sake. We’re even paying for part of -”

 

“Because you're paying for part of my schooling, you mean?” Ignis asked thinly, and the look on his face nearly froze Noct in his tracks. “Kind of you to remind me, Prince Noctis."

 

“W-wait, Iggy. You know that’s not what I -”

 

“His highness has made himself exceedingly clear. Rest assured, I have nothing but gratitude for the financial support I receive from the crown. However, I hardly see that as a basis for censoring the curriculum I teach in class.”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Come on, Iggy; you know that’s not what I meant! Are you really gonna be pissed over this?”

 

Ignis folded his napkin. “I’m not 'pissed.' However, I suggest we change the subject and continue this discussion later when we’re both more reasonable.”

 

“Oh, then I guess I'm the 'unreasonable' one, huh?" Noctis retorted. "Well what if I’m not done talking? You don’t get to decide that for me! Honestly, Ignis, you're being such a - “

 

“ _Later_ , Noct.”

 

They glared at one another across the table for a long, tense moment. Finally Noctis threw his fork, chair squealing backwards as he jumped to his feet. He stormed from the kitchen and straight to his bedroom, where he slammed the door behind him before belly-flopping onto the unmade bed.

 

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the sounds of dishes clinking as Ignis began to clear the table. His head was throbbing. What he needed was to nap off this absolute shit storm of a day. Seconds passed, then minutes. His heart continued tapping out an anxious, frantic rhythm his chest. He rolled onto his back, sighing with frustration.

 

‘It’ll blow over, right?’ he thought. ‘What just happened between me and Iggy. It’ll blow over like it always does…’

 

He could hear the hiss of the shower running in the bathroom down the hall. Ignis was getting ready.

 

‘I should say something to him before he leaves…’

 

‘No. Screw him. He can apologize to me, first.’

 

He remained sprawled out in bed, debating. His thoughts were interrupted some time later by the faint clunk of Ignis’s dress shoes in the hallway, followed by the rustling of his coat. He waited for Ignis to call out, to backtrack down the hall and stop just outside his room.

 

The front door opened, then closed. The soft beeping of the digital lock followed.

 

Noctis wasn’t sure how long he lay in the silence that followed. He would have laid there forever, but the pain in his head grew eventually too severe to ignore. He rolled off the bed and shivered; the temperature was dropping. He snatched up a hoodie from the floor on his way out, sniffing it before he pulling it over his head.

 

The hallway was dark. Ignis must have forgotten to leave the main lights on. Noctis paused to look out the window as he passed through the living room. Fat flakes danced in the twilight, obscuring the twinkling lights of the cityscape. Memories of snow days past began to cloud his memory like frost creeping across a windowpane. Just last year he and Prompto had been romping and playing together outside. They’d tried to build a snowman, but the snow had been to powdery. The year before that, they’d had a snowball fight. They made it a point to try something new every year - two Lucian kids excited to experience the kind of weather they usually only saw on TV. When they sun went down, they'd go their separate ways. If they were lucky, Prompto’s mom would let him get on the computer and they’d stay up late playing MMO’s together. If they weren’t so lucky, Noctis would get out his books and study.

 

That’s why tonight was so special. It was the first time they’d actually be snowed in together in the same place, at the same time. Or at least, it would have been…

 

The pain flared, followed by a wave of nausea. Wincing, Noctis continued to the kitchen. It was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the dishwasher. He went straight for the medicine cabinet and began rummaging through the half-empty bottles of fish oil and vitamin supplements. As he searched, his eyes happened to fall on the counter. Right at his elbow stood a glass of water; beside it were two pills. His contorted; he had to lean against the counter.

 

"Damn it, Specs..."

 

* * *

 

 

**PT. VI: 20:47**

 

The Amicitia family didn’t really believe in hanging onto the past. The few precious family heirlooms they’d bother to pass down were kept in display cases or locked up tight in Clarus’s room, safe inside lacquered chests. Everything else was shoved up in the attic attic, which with its dust-bunnies and low-hanging ceilings wasn’t exactly the most popular room in the manor. Gladio certainly didn’t make it a habit to visit. Unless, of course, for special situations.

 

Tonight’s special situation was his bossy little sister.

 

“I don’t see why this can’t wait until tomorrow,” he grumbled, ducking his head as he ascended the final stair. “It’s freezing up here.”

 

Iris pointed the flashlight in his direction. “Where’s your holiday spirit, Gladdy? By the way, you’ve got cobwebs in your hair.”

 

He swiped at his head frantically. Iris turned away, cackling.

 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh it up for now, Iris! Just wait until a spider starts crawling up your leg...”

 

“It takes more than a lil' bug to scare me. Now stop complaining and start looking!”

 

Gladio followed her toward a stack of boxes against the back wall. “Why don’t you get Jared or Talcott to help you? They’d probably enjoy going through all this old stuff.”

 

“Jared’s too old to see up here, and Talcott would probably get scared of the dark.” She crouched down and began rummaging through the nearest container. “Besides, neither of them of them are strong enough to help carry stuff downstairs. That’s where you come in, big guy. Ooh, look at this! Do you think this is some of mom’s old stuff?”

 

“Lemme see.” Gladio knelt beside her, peering inside. “Nah. She never would’ve worn that old baggy looking thing. Mom's style was more class.”

 

“Huh. Wonder why dad’s still hanging onto this, then?” She pushed the box away, reaching for another. “What kind of stuff did mom like to wear?”

 

“Flowy, pretty stuff.” Gladio shrugged. “You’ve seen pictures.”

 

“Yeah, but I want _you_ to tell me about it.”

 

He scratched the back of his head. “Just...a lot of simple, elegant kind of stuff, I guess. Didn’t wear much jewelry, except for rings. She had a bunch of those. Actually…” He paused, uncertain. “I used to sneak in their room and play with ‘em, when I was real little. You know, try on all the rings and stuff.”

 

Iris looked up from the box. “Like dress up? That’s cute, Gladdy!”

 

He blushed, grateful for the darkness. “Kinda, I guess. Dad saw me doing it once. He didn’t think it was so cute. But mom told him to leave me be. Speaking of dad…” He paused, checking the time on his digital watch. “He’s running awfully late.”

 

“He called earlier,” Iris replied. “He’s spending the night at the citadel. Working all day tomorrow, too. That’s why we gotta get all the decorations out before he gets home, so he can’t complain about it!”

 

“Fair enough.” Gladio grabbed a box dutifully. “Looks like there might be something in here,” he said, after a few minutes of perusal. “Stringed lights and stuff.”

 

“What?!”

 

He sat back as Iris took over, poking around the contents excitedly. “Nice work, Gladdy! You think these things still work?”

 

“Maybe. If you can get ‘em untangled first.”

 

“Wow, cool! Let’s find more!”

 

It was at this moment that Gladio’s cell phone began to vibrate from his back pocket. He fished it out and glanced at the screen, only to see a picture of Ignis staring back at him. It wasn't unusual for Ignis to call at night, especially when they'd both been busy. It wasn't a big deal. No, not really. Still, the coldness of the attic couldn't stop the familiar warmth spreading throughout his chest as he answered the call.

 

“Hey Iggy! How’s the party?”

 

“An absolute disaster.” He hiccupped loudly. “Pardon me. By any chance, have you heard from Noct?”

 

Of course; he was calling about _Noctis_. The stab of envy was almost enough to make the warmth disappear.

 

Almost.

 

“Nope. Why’re you asking?”

 

“I’m having some - hic - trouble catching a cab. Dunno when I’ll be home. I wanted to let him know, but he won’t answer his bloody phone.”

 

Swearing _and_ hiccups? Gladio frowned. “You been drinking, Igs?”

 

“Of course I’ve been drinking, it’s a party, Gladio!" There was a brief pause, then a long exhale, soft and raspy over the receiver. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so snippish. No wonder Noct won’t answer my calls. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to talk to me, either.”

 

Something clinked in the background, followed by a harsh swallow. Gladio’s hand closed tightly around the edge of the nearest box.

 

“I highly doubt Noct’s ignoring your calls, Iggy. And he's definitely not hurt or in danger, if that's what you're worried about; you already would’ve heard from one of the guards on duty. Knowing him, he’s probably just fast asleep."

 

“I, too, have considered that. But for some reason it all sounds more reasonable now hearing it from you."

 

Gladio chuckled proudly. "That's what I'm here for. Someone's gotta keep you two in line."

 

“Evidently," Ignis murmured, and Gladiolus could've sworn that there was real despondency in his voice. "Anyway, tell me. What were you doing before I so rudely interrupted your evening?”

 

Gladio glanced at his sister. It was too dark to make out her expression, but he’d bet a thousand gil she was smiling.

 

“Helping Iris out with one of her wacky projects. I’m glad you called; now I have an excuse to take a break.” He ignored her exasperated huff. “By the way, Igs...how long you been waiting for that cab?”

 

“Over an hour.” He yawned. “No one is having any luck. With the weather, the cabs just aren't running like they normally do. Some of the faculty mentioned getting a room together at the hotel. Maybe they’ll be generous and let me join in.”

 

Gladio’s stomach clenched.

 

“Nah. That’s ridiculous. I’ll come get you.”

 

There was a choked, spluttering sound. "Are you high?! Have you even looked outside? I’d never make you venture out in _this_ for my sake!”

 

“You’re not making me; I wanna do it. The Grand Hotel Insomnia, right?”

 

“I - well, yes, but - honestly, Gladio, are you really sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’m really sure. Unless, you’d rather stay there…”

 

'With Ravus,' he added mentally, because apparently he was also a masochist on top of a hopeless dork these days.

 

There was a beat of silence, followed by another sigh. “Blast,” Ignis muttered. “I suppose...if you could do me the honor…”

 

“Consider it done. Sit tight, Iggy. I’ll be there in a few.”

 

“W-wait!” 

 

Gladio froze, listening. When Ignis spoke again, he sounded hesitant - almost shy.

 

“Do promise me you’ll be careful, Gladio.”

 

Surprise flashed briefly across Gladio’s face. He coughed, turning away from his sister. “Y-yeah, sure. Bye, Iggy.”

 

Iris had the decency to wait until he’d hung up before she jumped him.

 

"Is this a date?" she jeered in a sing-song voice. "Ooh, Gladdy, it’s almost like you asked him on a date!”

 

Even her teasing couldn't wipe the smile off his face. “Sorry Iris, gotta run. Let’s finish going through this stuff tomorrow.”

 

She sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll let you off the hook - but only ‘cause it’s Ignis.”

 

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On next week's episode, Noctis gets a surprise visitor **wink wink**. Can he finally turn his day around? Meanwhile, Gladiolus rushes off to save the Ignis in distress, but gets more than he bargained for in the process...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noct gets a surprise visitor; Gladio comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! It's been very snowy where I live recently, which has made it fun to work on this story. Thanks again to everyone who left comments and kudos. It means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Also...does anyone have any advice about finding a beta, or engaging with a community who is interested in helping each other edit/revise? I feel like I'm at a point where other people's input would be helpful.

**_VII: 20:59 hours_ **

 

_‘You’ll eat your vegetables Noct; I stake my life on it!’_

 

_‘Never!’_

 

_‘...Then perish.’_

 

_Ignis was suddenly above him. Noctis barely managed to phase before his lance drove into the pavement with frightening accuracy. The cement warbled and shook from the impact._

 

_‘What the fuck Ignis? Are you trying to kill me? You’re supposed to be my friend!’_

 

_‘That shitty diet of yours is what’s going to kill you! As your adviser, it’s my job to make sure you’re getting the correct amount of nutrients and -'_

 

_‘Shut-up!’ Noct warped, driving his weapon straight at Iggy’s face. Except he wasn’t holding his sword anymore; it was an eggplant. Iggy stumbled, swearing. Before he could regain his footing, Noct smacked him with the eggplant, hard. ‘Just - stop - talking!’_

 

_Ignis managed to dodge the next strike, circling behind Noct. He was holding a cabbage now. With a rabid cry, he brought the cabbage straight down onto Noct’s head. Noctis felt his entire body shake. His ears rang, the buzzing growing louder and louder like a swarm of -_

 

**_BUZZ._ **

 

Noctis bolted upright. He was in his apartment. ‘A nightmare,’ he realized. Except unlike the food fight, the buzzing hadn’t stopped.

 

Shit; the intercom!

 

Noctis rolled off the couch, landing heavily on his knees. A longer buzz sounded. “I’m coming,” he groaned, stumbling to his feet. He wobbled blearily across the room, bumping into the coffee table and an armchair before finally reaching the intercom.

 

He punched the button.

 

“Yeah?” he muttered, eyes still closed.

 

“Good evening, my dear boy. Did I wake you from your slumber?”

 

“Uncle Ardyn.” Noctis rubbed his face sleepily. “What’s up.”

 

“Oh, I just thought I’d let you know that I’ve received a missive from one of your friends.”

 

That peeled his eyes right open. “Huh? Since when do my friends text you?”

 

“Is it really so shocking that the people charged with your well-being contact each other from time to time?”

 

Noctis ignored the sarcasm. “Was it Ignis?”

 

“Wrong~! It was, in fact -” Ardyn paused for dramatic affect - “Gladiolus. He roused me from my own precious slumber to say that your flat-mate would be running late tonight, but never fear; all is well. He also left you a kind reminder to ‘turn the ringer up on your damn phone.’”

 

So Gladio and Ignis were running around tonight. Huh. Noct wondered how that had happened.

 

“Anything else?” he asked, ready to get back to the couch.

 

“Yes. You forgot to invite me to dinner.”

 

The line went dead.

 

Noctis returned to the sofa marginally more awake. The first thing he did was unlock his phone. Four missed calls, all from Ignis. Damn - had he really passed out that hard? There was also a text from Ignis sent at 16:25:

 

> **Ignis:** Still waiting on cab. Nott sure when I’ll bhome

 

‘Bhome?’ Was that a new word in the dictionary?

 

Noctis knew he should probably reply. Not just because of the fight they'd had earlier, but also because Ignis was a chronic worrier. Then he flashed back to dream-Ignis braining him with a cabbage.

 

He’d reply later.

 

Going on to check his other notifications, he spotted an email from his dad (emails were the most technologically advanced means of communication that Regis had successfully mastered). Noctis opened it.

 

> _Dear Noctis,_
> 
>  
> 
> _As you can see from the attached photo, in between my meetings tonight I have made some time to enjoy the weather. How about you? Are you out with your friends yet?_
> 
>  
> 
> _I’m sure you don’t need me to say it, but remember to put on a scarf and heavy coat, as Clarus has just recently scolded me for not doing the same - which only goes to show that you are never too old for these types of reminders!_
> 
>  
> 
> _The guards at your apartment complex notified me that your uncle is in town. Please try to spend some time with him during his stay. In the end, family is all we have._
> 
>  
> 
> _Stay warm & much love, _
> 
> _Your father_

 

Damn those guards. Noctis wondered how much of a bonus they got for spying on him, or if they were just that enthusiastic about their jobs.

 

Still grumbling to himself, he opened the attachment - and instantly snorted. The selfie’s low, unflattering angle made Regis’s face wide as a garula’s behind. On top of that, his smile was awkward and stiff, as if he were more focused on capturing the snowy balcony behind him than getting a decent shot of his face. It didn’t help that the the photo had been taken outside at night, or that the image was slightly blurred. His hands had probably been shaking again…

 

‘Shaking from the cold,’ Noctis told himself firmly. ‘It’s just the cold.’ Still, he couldn’t keep himself from noting the fine lines around his father’s eyes, or the dark bags of fatigue.

 

The picture wasn’t funny anymore. Noctis closed the attachment and began to type his reply.

 

> _Hi dad,_
> 
>  
> 
> _Nice pic. I’m good. Staying in tonight..._

 

His thumb hovered over the keypad as he reread the message. ‘Snowed in alone, huh?’ he thought. He lowered the phone to his lap and leaned back, staring up at the darkened ceiling. ‘What a waste…’

 

_‘Seriously, Noct? Pull your head outta your ass!’_

 

Noct started. Since when did his inner voice sound like Gladio?

 

_‘Enough bitching - time for some action. What’re you actually gonna do about it?’_

 

Huh. Gladio’s voice had a point. The night wasn’t completely lost. For one, he had the apartment to himself, which hardly ever happened. He could watch whatever he wanted, wear he whatever he wanted (or didn’t want to), and eat all the junk food his stomach could handle without anyone trying to slip him a carrot. Sure, it would have been way more fun hanging with Prompto - his chest squeezed - but that was his own damn fault for taking his frustration out on his best friend. Time to stop moping and staring making the best out of this situation.

 

“All right,” he muttered. He lifted his phone. “Let’s get this party started.”

 

After replying to his father’s email (he made sure to attach an ugly selfie of his own), he grabbed a beer and settled down in front of the TV. He had over three hours of ice fishing videos waiting for him on his watch-queue. Was there ever a better way to celebrate a snowy day?

 

_Buzz._

 

Noct’s eyes rolled towards the intercom. Gods. What did that old man want _now_?

 

Almost chastising, the words from his father’s email came to mind: _Please try to spend some time with him during his stay. In the end, family is all we have._

 

'I did spend time with him,' Noctis thought sourly. 'At least, a little. And yeah, so I was on the phone with Prompto half the time, but I still said hello!'

 

As if in response, he recalled his uncle’s reproach from earlier: _You forgot to invite me to dinner._ It had sounded so bitter, so small.

 

Noctis imagined his uncle, alone in his penthouse, and guilt crept over him. It had been nearly a year since Noct had last been up there, but he remembered that it had been claustrophobic and dark. On a night like tonight, it was probably freezing - which surely wasn’t doing any miracles for Ardyn’s health.

 

The intercom buzzed again, impatient. Noctis stared at it, chewing his lip.

 

‘What if I’m not the only one feeling lonely tonight?’

 

Dammit.

 

He lugged himself off the couch and trudged back over to the intercom.

 

“Hey, uncle, what’s - ”

 

“It’s me!”

 

That voice! Noctis gripped the wall. “P-prompto?! Wha - what are you - I thought you didn’t wanna hang out!”

 

“Uh, well, I’m here now obviously. So can you open the door? I’m kinda freezing my ass off, dude.”

 

“Y-yeah, of course! One sec…”

 

Noctis paced a tight circle around the entrance as he waited. The second he heard the elevator, he ducked out into the hallway.

 

“What the heck, dude!” he exclaimed. “I thought you weren’t coming over!”

 

Prompto, who was bundled so tightly he resembled a swollen burrito, didn’t answer. In one arm he bore a giant cardboard pizza box with a Kenny’s logo; an overnight bag hung from the other. He shoved the pizza at Noctis and waddled past. Once inside, he dropped the bag and let out a muffled moan. He began to undo his scarf, revealing a reddened nose and two shining, watery eyes. The lashes framing them were heavy with melting snowflakes.

 

“Phew!” He tore of his beanie, inhaling deeply. “Thanks for letting me in, man. Six, it’s cold out there. Can’t feel my toes.”

 

He brushed the snow from his bangs with a chuckle, then unzipped his coat. He was wearing an old maroon sweatshirt underneath. It matched the color of his cheeks and lips, not to mention the tips of his ears. As he bent to undo his bootlaces, he glanced up at Noctis, eyes narrowed quizzically.

 

“Uh, you good, dude? ‘Cause you’re kinda staring at me and not saying anything…”

 

“S-sorry.” Noctis looked down at the pizza. “Guess I’m just surprised to see you here.”

 

“What, you think I’d ditch my best bud just ‘cause he’s feeling a little grumpy? Hell no!”

 

There was a little, happy flutter in the pit of Noct’s stomach. The corner of his mouth curled into a shy smile. Prompto was too focused on unlacing his other boot to notice.

 

“Sorry if I made you worry, though,” he said. “My phone died when I was out earlier, and I forgot to charge it when I ran home. I needed to shower and grab some fresh clothes ‘cause I didn’t wanna come over smelling like a pack of cigarettes after karaoke. Not to mention, I had some pretty gnarly sweat patches after that presentation. Totally gross…”

 

“Heh. Thanks for the consideration.” He cast Prompto a surreptitious glance. “Um, about your presentation…”

 

“Can we like, not talk about that right now?”

 

Noct grimaced. “Yikes. That bad, huh?”

 

“Let me just say, whatever you’re thinking…It was way worse.” Prompto finished kicking off his boots and slid out of his coat. “What about you? You wanna talk about Ignis?”

 

Noct’s grip tightened around the edge of the pizza box. “Not really,” he mumbled.

 

“Great! Then it’s settled. Time for beer, pizza and King’s Knight. Highest score gets to be remote master for the rest of the weekend.”

 

He clapped Noct on the shoulder and headed into the living the room, where he plopped down on the couch. Noct’s eyes trailed after him. There was a tightness in his shoulders and chest, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of tightness you felt at the top of a roller coaster, or when someone handed you a big present tied up with a bow. It was a gift that Noctis didn’t deserve and yet, here Prompto was at his side. And Noct didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to try and force everything to be right again. With Prompto it was natural, it was comfortable and easy, it was okay and it was better than okay because somehow Prompto just  _got him_.

 

“Uh, Noct? You gonna stand there holding that pizza all night, or are we gonna do this thing?”

 

Noctis grinned. He bounded towards the living room.

 

“All right; you’re on!”

 

**_PT VIII: 21:36 Hours_ **

 

Gladio’s neck was damp with sweat by the time he pulled up in front of the Grand Hotel Insomnia. He'd been forced to take it slow. The roads were slick as marlboro mucus, and it didn’t help that everyone else was driving like an asshole. That was the kicker about these yearly storms. They weren’t frequent enough for people to get used to, or for the city to invest in the right kind of infrastructure. Too bad Shiva didn’t give a damn. Instead of being consistent, she’d rather spring out a random blizzard every now and then like a frigid megabitch.

 

Gladio put the SUV in park and pulled out his phone. He sent Iris a quick text, letting her know he’d made it safely. Then he dialed Iggy.

 

One ring, then two. His fingers drummed the steering wheel. Another ring. A snow plow trundled by.

 

“Hello. You’ve reached the voicemail box of - _Ignis Scientia_ \- . Please leave a message after the -”

 

It was one thing for Noct to miss a couple phone calls, but Ignis? Gladio hung up with a scowl. Dammit; he was gonna have to crash this party.

 

* * *

 

 The inside of the Grand Hotel Insomnia glittered like a jewel. Guests bustled about, their excited voices bouncing off the marble floors and vaulted ceilings. Gladio scanned the crowd. Near the foot of the grand staircase, he spotted a sign: "Odine Award Reception.” It pointed toward two great ebony doors. They were partially open to another room - perhaps a ballroom.

 

Bingo.

 

Gladio strode across the lobby with purpose. He was close enough to the doors to peer inside when his trajectory was interrupted.

 

“Excuse me, sir.” The words were spoken by an employee in a top hat and red bow tie, materializing directly in Gladio's path. “This event is invitation only.”

 

Gladio tried to tamp down his impatience. “I'm just here to pick up a friend.”

 

“Is that so?” The employee stared openly at Gladio’s bomber jacket, then at his blue jeans and scuffed boots. “May I suggest you call your friend to let them know you are here? I assume that would be much more convenient.”

 

“Oh, you ‘assume,’ huh? Haven't you ever heard what they say about people who assume?”

 

The employee smiled tightly.

 

Gladio scowled. This smug jackass was getting him nowhere. He considered tossing out the  name “Amicitia.” Maybe that would ring a few bells. But no - he’d been raised better than that. Instead, he used his height advantage to glance surreptitiously over the employee’s shoulder. He could see guests in fancy cocktail dresses and tailored suits ambling about the ballroom, chatting and sipping martinis. No sign of Iggy. Just when he'd almost given up, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

 

“There’s my friend!” he lied, pointing wildly over the employee’s shoulder. “Um, Dr., uh...Quistis!”

 

His voice must have carried, because she turned to look in his direction. Her face lit up. Gladio smiled with relief. He waited as she murmured something into the ear of the person next to her before heading towards him. Gladio took this time to admire the elegant sway of her hips, wrapped tightly in a long mermaid skirt of amber velvet. It was complimented by a matching halter top that ended just above her navel, revealing a splash of toned abdomen.

 

Gladio swallowed.

 

“My, my!” Quistis exclaimed, approaching with a coquettish smile. “What a pleasant surprise.” She laid a manicured hand on the doorman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Miles. He’s on the list.”

 

“M-my apologies, miss, I-”

 

“Now Gladio. Shall we?”

 

She took Gladio’s hand without waiting for a response. Startled (and more than a little excited) by her assertiveness, he allowed her to lead him inside.

 

“Sorry about Miles,” she said, leaning in close to his ear. “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”

 

Even with the proximity, it was difficult to hear over the laughter and festive piano music. Gladio leaned in close. Her hair smelled like lilac and honey. “No worries! He’s just trying to do his job.”

 

Quistis smiled, evidently impressed by this display of gallantry. Her eyes locked on a passing waiter, and she let go of his hand. Gladio took hold of this opportunity to get it together. ‘You're here to get Iggy,’ he told himself firmly, ‘NOT to start hitting on his boss.’ He allowed himself one last glimpse of Quistis’s ass as she chatted with the waiter. His eyes flickered away as she turned back to face him, a champagne flute in hand.

 

“Would you like a drink, Gladio? You look like you could use one.”

 

“Er, maybe another time.”

 

“Suit yourself.” She dismissed the waiter. “So, what brings you out tonight? I assume it’s more than just my charms.”

 

“I’m just here to pick up Iggy. You seen him around lately?”

 

“Last I saw, he was moping around by the cocktail bar. Would you like me to show you?”

 

“I think I can manage,” he said quickly. “You just get back to enjoying the party. And uh, thanks for helping out with the gatekeeper back there. I owe you one.”

 

“Maybe you can express your gratitude by repaying me with a drink sometime.”

 

She smiled coyly. Despite her cool demeanor, her cheeks were flushed.

 

‘By the six, Gladio,' he thought, 'you’ve done it again, you charming bastard.’

 

“I might have to take you up on that,” he said gently. “See you around, Quistis.”

 

Gladio shook his head as he walked away. Yep; that Dr. Trepe was really something else.

 

Finding the bar wasn’t difficult; neither was spotting Ignis. He was seated at a table just a short distance away, wearing his coat and staring gloomily into a half-empty glass of champagne. His normally crisp pompadour had begun to come loose, limp strands of hair dangling in his eyes as he nursed his drink. Gladio's chest tightened. This wasn't good. He shouldn't have wasted so much time flirting with Quistis. Iggy clearly wasn't doing okay. Gladio moved towards him, and the crowd shifted, expanding his view of the table.

 

Ignis wasn’t alone.

 

There was someone seated beside him - seated quite closely, in fact. A tall, silver-haired someone wearing a white blazer and the ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

It was Ravus Nox Fleuret.

 

Gladio stopped moving. He brow pinched almost painfully as he stared, trying to understand what he was seeing. Before he could really form a coherent assessment beyond ‘ _I don’t like this_ ,’ Ravus looked up. They held each other’s gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he Ravus was leaning forward, whispering something close to Ignis’s ear.

 

Oh hell no.

 

Gladio was back in motion, his long strides quickly closing the distance. As he approached, Ignis’s head turned.

 

“Gladio!” he exclaimed. He rose from his chair - then tilted forward dangerously. Ravus reached out, his hand hovering over Ignis’s shoulder.

 

Gladio showed no such hesitation.

 

“Easy, captain,” he murmured. He laid a steadying hand on Ignis’s back; the other pressed gently down on his shoulder, guiding him back toward the chair. “You almost ate the tablecloth there for a second. You good?”

 

“Y-yes.” Ignis slumped weakly in his seat. His glasses were crooked. He reached up to adjust them, but left them even more askew. “I’ve just had a bit much to drink.”

 

Gladio eyed the empty champagne flutes littering the table’s surface. “I can see that,” he muttered, darting an accusatory glare at Ravus. “My car’s outside. Let’s get out of here.”

 

He held out an arm; Ignis accepted it gratefully. Gladio briefly registered the stench of alcohol and the cool, earthy scent of his cologne. It had been months since their bodies had been this close, he realized. Not since the road trip to Lestallum, when it was normal to be pressed up against each other in a tent, or squished beside one another in the backseat of the Regalia.

 

His heart gave an anxious leap.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

Ravus stood by the table, his brow furrowed deeply. He looked like he’d just tasted something bitter.

 

“I understand that the current weather impedes travel. As I myself possess quarters in this very hotel, I suppose etiquette obliges that I offer you shelter until the storm passes. I assure you that the suite is more than enough to accommodate both of you without too great an imposition to myself, should you so desire.”

 

Gladio’s face twitched.

 

“Thanks, _your highness_ ,” he spat out, “but we won’t be _imposing_. I’ve got it from here.”

 

“I believe that what Gladio means to say is - _hic_.” Ignis brought a gloved hand to his mouth. “Pardon me. What Gladio -  that is, what we _both_ mean to say is - thank you, Ravus.”

 

‘Ravus?’ Gladio’s eyes snapped to Ignis. Since when had he started addressing the crown prince of Tenebrae without formal title?!

 

“However,” Ignis continued, blissfully unaware of any faux pas, “I have every confidence that Gladio and his four-wheel drive are more than capable of weathering the storm.”

 

He used his free hand to give Gladio a hearty, sloppy pat on the chest. Gladio’s face burned. Thank gods his jacket was zipped, or this would be twice as embarrassing.

 

“I see,” Ravus said thinly, averting his gaze. “Then may you both reach home safely.”

 

* * *

 

Gladio waited until they reached the hotel lobby before starting his interrogation.

 

"How'd you two manage to get on such friendly terms?"

 

“It’s a social event, Gladio,” Ignis slurred, stumbling slightly. “The point is to socialize with one’s colleagues.”

 

“Hmph. Doesn’t mean you should drink so much.”

 

“If I did, it’s your fault.”

 

Gladio raised a brow. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

 

“If you had gotten here sooner, I would’ve had less time to drink.”

 

This petulant response drew a chuckle from Gladio. “Geeze, Iggy. If you missed me, all you had to do was say so.”

 

Ignis let go of his arm, pausing to give him a hard (albeit unfocused) look. “Are you patronizing me?”

 

“Me, patronize you?” He reached up and straightened Iggy’s glasses with a smirk. Ignis blinked, a pretty blush suffusing his cheeks. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now let’s get you buttoned up. It’s colder than Shiva’s tits out there."

 

Ignis grit his teeth. “I can manage on my own!” he snapped, turning away. “I’m not a child.”

 

He clumsily did up a few buttons - all totally wrong, of course. Gladio took one look at the asymmetrical front of his coat and burst out laughing.

 

“It’s an easy mistake!”

 

“Sure it is. But I think it might be my turn to take care of you tonight, four-eyes.”

 

Ignis inhaled sharply as Gladio moved in, beginning to undo and then redo the buttons. He hummed to himself, finishing the final button with a satisfied smirk.

 

“There,” he murmured. “Now you won’t freeze to death.”

 

He glanced up at Ignis’s face, and his smirk disappeared. The eyes staring back at him were red from liquor, and dark with an emotion Gladio had never seen before - especially not one he’d ever dared hope that Ignis would direct at _him_. A tight knot of desire tugged somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. He ran his eyes along the sharp lines of Ignis’s jaw, those sinfully high cheekbones.

 

Then he looked away.

 

“You all set, then?” he asked shakily. “Not forgetting anything, right?”

 

Ignis shook his head, his lips curved just enough to be enticing. “Gladio…”

 

“Yeah?” he barked, his voice much more gruff than he’d intended.

 

“This protective side of yours - it really is quite charming. This must be how you’re able to seduce so many women.”

 

Gladio blinked, momentarily stricken. Was - was Ignis hitting on him?

 

He didn’t get much time to ponder. Having deliver this bombshell, Ignis sauntered off through the revolving doors. Gladio crammed his emotions back into the hole they’d crawled out of and hurried after him.

 

The frigid air felt good on his face as he emerged into the night. Ignis stood at the edge of the awning, facing the street.

 

“Hey! Don’t take off like that.”

 

No response. Gladio took a deliberately slow breath, then released it through his mouth. It materialized like a puff of smoke. Scowling, he stepped over to join Ignis.

 

“Yo. Iggy. Let’s get in the…” His voice faltered at the first glimpse of Ignis's face. His eyes sparkled as he stared out at the street, lips parted with wonder.

 

“Goodness!” he breathed. “Are you seeing this, Gladio? It’s like another world out here.”

 

He was right. The small, dagger-sharp flakes from earlier had vanished. Now they were fat, filling the air like handfuls of phoenix down. Whatever parts of the road had been cleaned were already blanketed over by a fresh layer of white, thick as frosting. ‘Including  my car,’ Gladio noted grimly. He hoped the doors hadn’t frozen shut while they’d been inside...

 

Ignis stepped out from beneath the awning and into the freshly fallen snow, turning his face upward with a blissful smile. A humongous flake landed on his glasses. He flinched, then laughed. It sounded like music.

 

“Glorious,” he whispered, and turned his smile on Gladio. Except it wasn’t just a smile, Gladio realized; it was an embrace.

 

That probably would have been the end of Gladio’s resistance had Shiva not intervened. At that exact moment, a strong wind blew, knocking Ignis off-balance. He tried to take a step toward the awning, facing away from the wind, but stumbled on a patch of ice. He swore loudy, arms waving as he plummeted toward the ground...

 

But Gladio wasn't Sworn Shield for nothing. He dove forward, catching him easily. “Dammit Iggy! Try to be more care-”

 

Ignis melted against Gladio's chest, cutting off the tirade abruptly. Gladio's heart rate skyrocketed.

 

“Thank you, Gladio.” His voice was muffled against Gladio's jacket. “You're so good to me. A blessing from the gods in my life. Oh dear...I don’t feel so well, suddenly…”

 

Gladio squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Sighing, he patted the deflated spikes atop Ignis’s head.

 

This was gonna be one hell of a long winter’s night.

 

**TBC...**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On next week's episode, it may be snowy outside, but things really ~HEAT UP~ between Noctis and Prompto (wink wink). Meanwhile, Gladio tries keep it together while taking care of a drunk Iggy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally start to heat up at Noct's apartment. Gladio helps Iggy get comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, it took me eight months to finish this chapter. Sorry my guys. Special shout out to MathClassWarfare for beta reading, helping me edit/revise, and just being generally awesome and supportive. If you guys are looking for some excellent FFXV fics to read go check her stuff out!

**_Pt. IX: 22:10 hours_ **

****

“Gah! No fair!”

 

The blue and gold victory sign burst onto the screen. Noctis grinned. “Don’t hate the player, Prompto, hate the game.”

 

“Whatever,” Prompto grumbled, sulking. “You totally cheesed that last turret.”

 

“Not my fault I’m better at exploiting the system. Wanna go again?”

 

 “No. All this ass-whooping’s making me tired.” Prompto laid down his controller with a sigh. He nodded toward the coffee table. “You gonna eat that?”

 

Noct glanced at the lone slice of pizza in the bottom of the grease-stained carton. He grimaced.

 

“No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

 

 “Ugh--same.” Prompto lugged himself to his feet and stretched. Noctis tried to ignore the pale sliver of abdomen peeking out from beneath his hoodie .

 

“Well, Remote Master”--the declaration drew Noct’s gaze upward, cheeks burning--“what’re we watching?”

 

He tossed him a crooked smile. The pizza churned dangerously in Noct’s gut.

 

Noctis wasn’t an idiot. He knew he had a problem. A Prompto problem, specifically. Ever since the road trip to Lestallum, he’d found his thoughts (and his eyes) lingering where they shouldn’t be. ‘But not tonight,’ he told himself firmly. ‘Tonight I’m gonna keep my head on straight.’ He tore his eyes away and reached for the remote with resolution.

 

Then the phone rang.

 

“Gladio!” Noct exclaimed. “How are the roads out there? Where are you guys? You and Specs almost back yet?”

 

“Yeah, about that . . .”

 

There was a tired edge to Gladio’s voice that didn’t bode well. Prompto reached for the pizza box, shooting Noct a curious glance before turning and heading for the kitchen .

 

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty bad out here right now, Noct. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to make it back to your apartment.”

 

Disappointment settled heavily in his stomach .

 

“Did something happen?” Noctis asked, careful to keep his voice steady. Prompto froze. Noctis pretended not to see his concerned look.

 

“Nah; so far so good. I’d just like to keep it that way, y’know? And my place is a lot closer to this part of town than yours, so . . .”

 

“I wanna talk to Ignis.”

 

There was a moment of silence. Prompto was still standing and watching, the pizza box in his hands all but forgotten.

 

“Now’s probably not the best time, Noct,” Gladio said at last. Noctis frowned .

 

“Why not?” he demanded. But the truth was he already knew the answer. Ignis didn’t want to talk to him, and of course he didn’t. If Noctis were Ignis, he wouldn’t want to talk to himself, either.

 

“Cuz he’s sleeping, Noct,” Gladio explained, in the tone of a patient man whose patience was quickly growing thin.

 

Oh. Well now he just felt like an ass.

 

“Look, I’m gonna get off here and back on the road,” Gladio continued. “You two be good. If you need anything, remember Nyx is down the hall.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Be safe. Let me know when you make it back.”

 

“Will do. Night, Noct.”

 

The call disconnected.

 

“What was that all about?”

 

Prompto’s forehead wrinkled with concern. Noctis reached for the remote.

 

“Iggy’s not coming home tonight,” he said, avoiding his gaze.

 

“And he’s out running around with Gladio?”

 

“I guess.”

 

Prompto’s brows furrowed briefly. Then he shrugged and resumed his stroll toward the kitchen.

 

“What are those two even doing out tonight, anyway?” he asked, pulling open the refrigerator door. “I thought I was the only one dumb enough to come out in this storm.”

 

“Ignis had a work event or something.”

 

“And Gladio went with him?”

 

Noct pursed his lips. He could hear the clinking of glass, then the muffled ‘thud’ of Prompto closing the refrigerator door. Prompto waltzed back in from the kitchen, pizza box replaced by a bottle of beer in each hand. Noctis waited until he plopped back down on the couch before answering.

 

“Specs and me . . . kind of had a fight,” he admitted, averting his gaze.

 

“You mean, another fight?”

 

“. . . yeah.”

 

Prompto chewed his lip. For a moment, Noct expected him to ask something, but the moment passed. Instead, he uncapped a bottle.

 

“Sounds like you could use another beer, good sir .”

 

He held out the bottle. Noctis blinked, then took it.

 

“Er . . . thanks.”

 

“Now then.” Prompto settled back, raising his own bottle to his lips. “What are we watching tonight, Remote Master?”

 

Noctis nodded wordlessly toward the tv. On the flat screen, Navyth Arlund held up an albino vesper gar to the backdrop of a glittering, frozen lake. The gar thrashed, nearly throwing Navyth off-balance.

 

Prompto groaned.

 

“Ugh, seriously? _Fishing videos_?”

 

“It’s ‘Extreme Ice Fishing.’”

 

“Oh boy. Forgive the mistake of a fishing casual.” Prompto’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but not the hateful kind. It was teasing--almost warm. “Whatever. If it’s ice fishing my boy Noctis wants, then it’s ice fishing he gets! But I’m gonna need you to at least give up some of that blanket first.”

 

Noctis scooted into the arm of the couch and pulled back the cover. Prompto slid into the empty space with a contented sigh. Curling up under the cover--a posh, fuzzy black throw Ignis had picked out from a department store--he began to scroll through his notifications, phone in one hand and beer in the other. His body pressed solid and firm against Noctis’s side, even with the good three inches of hoodie between them .

 

“Sorry you had such a shit day, dude.”

 

The remark was unexpected . Prompto glanced up from his phone, smile crooked and apologetic. Noctis cleared his throat.

 

“Me too. About the presentation, I mean.” He looked away and took a hurried swig of beer.

 

Prompto shrugged.

 

“Meh. That’s not your fault. Although it would’ve sucked less if you’d’ve been there. Y’know, like, if we still went to the same school.”

 

And there it was: the hard truth. Noctis picked at the label on his beer, trying not to imagine how differently things might have played out if it had been Prompto sitting next to him in history class that morning instead of Gladio.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed at last. “I hear ya.”

 

There was a moment of weighted silence. Navyth was demonstrating the proper technique for cutting a hole in the ice, but neither of them were watching.

 

Prompto shifted nervously.

 

“S-sorry. Didn’t mean to kill the mood.” He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “But hey--I bet I got something that’ll cheer you up!”

 

Noctis raised a brow, watching with curiosity as Prompto busied himself with his cellphone. Probably just another baby  garula vine. Then Prompto thrust his cellphone in Noctis’s face, grinning wickedly.

 

“Remember this?”

 

The Chocogram app was open. It showed a photo that Noctis instantly recognized: Gladio, taken somewhere in the Leide desert, back gracefully arched as a cactuar fired 10,000 needles towards his backside.

 

Noctis snorted.

 

“How could I forget. I was the one who had to pull all the needles out of his ass.”

 

Prompto  retracted his arm, smiling down at the picture fondly. “Heh! Yeah. Poor bastard couldn’t sit down right for days. But hey, at least Ignis let us spend the night in Galdin Quay. Gotta hand it to Gladio for that.”

 

He swiped to the next photo. One glimpse and Noctis could practically hear the lumbering splashes growing closer, feel the hot, moist snuffles on the back of his neck.

 

“I still can’t believe you talked me into posing with that catoblepas,” he deadpanned.

 

“Uh, maybe because you’re a badass? And this shot is badass, too! Hands down the best photo I got from the entire trip.”

 

Badass? Really? Noctis decided not to mention the part about nearly shitting his pants.

 

“Are these saved to your phone?” he asked, mostly to change the subject.

 

“Yeah. I like to look at ‘em when I’m having a bad day. Reliving the magic of Gladio taking 10,000 needles to the ass always cheers me up.”

 

Was that what Prompto was doing, Noctis wondered; trying to cheer him up?

 

The tight ball of emotions in his stomach slowly loosened as the slide show continued. All of the photos were from last summer’s road trip: Noctis on a fishing dock, proudly holding up a massive aural sea bass nearly as long as his own body (“Mmm, mmm.” Prompto smacked his lips. “That sure made some tasty fish-sticks.”); the two of them together at the Assassin’s Festival, decked out in full assassin’s gear and striking a corny pose; Noctis covered in hay, red-cheeked and exhilarated after taking the leap of faith.

 

“Not gonna lie, I was jealous you had the balls to do that,” Prompto admitted. He heaved a sigh. “Man. It’s hard having a best friend who’s such a bamf.”

 

“Stop it,” Noctis grumbled, biting back a smile.

 

Prompto nudged his shoulder, smiling playfully. “Stop being modest and teach me your ways!”

 

Noctis batted at his shoulder, pretending to be annoyed. Prompto dodged and stuck out his tongue. Before Noct could retaliate, a shill “kweh” interrupted. They both glanced down at the phone still clutched in Prompto’s hand.

 

“Selphie has tagged you in 3 posts,” Noctis read aloud.

 

“Probably from this evening,” Prompto explained. “Y’know, the karaoke. I’m surprised she’s already uploaded pictures. Wonder if they headed back home because of the storm.”

 

He worried his lip, eyeing the notification. Noctis struggled with a momentary sense of annoyance, then forced a smile.

 

“Well. Aren’t you gonna look at ‘em?”

 

Prompto’s brow raised. “O-oh, the photos? Nah. I can always look at them later.”

 

“What, afraid I’ll see something embarrassing?” Noctis teased. Prompto chuckled weakly.

 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already been witness to most if not all of my most epic public humiliations, Noct.”

 

“Exactly. So what’s left to lose?”

 

Prompto shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I just don’t wanna bore you by making you look at pictures of me and a bunch of people you don’t even know.”

 

“Maybe I’d like to get to know them,” Noct replied, tone way more relaxed than he actually felt. “You don’t really talk much about your friends.”

 

He expected confusion from Prompto, maybe surprise. Instead, his eyes softened. He seemed to be considering

 

“They’re all right,” he answered finally, lips curving. “None of ‘em hold a candle to you, though.”

 

A strangled noise escaped Noct’s lips. Desperate, he raised his bottle. It was empty but he pretended to drink from it anyway . Not that it mattered. Prompto had mercifully returned his attention back to the cellphone.

 

“I guess we can take a look at ‘em, then,” he relented. “But only cause you want to.”

 

“Whatever,” Noct mumbled, smirking. “You were dying to look and you know it.”

 

Prompto tapped the notification. Noctis leaned in against his shoulder, eager to get a better view of the phone. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt oddly nervous--almost like Prompto was about to introduce him to a real person.

 

A girl with blue eyes and a spunky, chestnut-brown bob filled the screen. She was cute, in a bubbly sort of way. She looked like the kind of person who talked too much and laughed a lot--the kind of person Prompto would get along well with. The kind of girl Prompto liked. Unfamiliar faces crowded around her for a group selfie, but her smile was the most eye-catching. At least it would have been for anyone but Noctis. He was more interested in Prompto, whose face was partially obscured by an elbow.

 

“Nice picture,” he said after a brief pause. “Who’s your friend?”

 

Prompto cocked a brow. He pointed to the girl in the photo. “You mean Selphie? Met her through Dino. She’s his roommate. We hang out sometimes.”

 

“Oh yeah? What do you do when you hang out?”

 

Prompto shrugged. “Play King’s Knight, grab a burger from Kenny’s. Pretend we’re studying. Y’know, the usual friend stuff.”

 

Noctis listened carefully for any breathlessness, any tell-tale warbles of longing. He heard none.

 

“She sounds pretty cool,” he said at last. “I can see why you’re friends.”

 

“Yeah, Selphie’s all right,” Prompto agreed. “Wish she’d stop trying to set me up with her friends, though. Blind dates really aren’t my thing.”

 

Noctis froze. A vision of Prompto seated at a bar with a nameless, faceless and yet somehow still painfully attractive stranger shot through his mind like a bolt of lightning. He fought to keep his face smooth.

 

“You’re . . . going on dates?” he asked quietly.

 

Prompto snorted.

 

“Seriously, dude? I’m flattered you actually think that’d even be a possibility for me. But nah. I’m single as ever. One hundred percent on track to die alone.”

 

“Not _totally_ alone.”

 

Prompto glanced up, eyes questioning. Noctis answered his look with a gentle smile.

 

“You’ll always have me,” he said. “I mean, Gladio and Ignis too, of course. Plus your new friends.”

 

A sudden pink dusted Prompto’s cheeks. He dropped his gaze, grinning.

 

“Heh. Yeah, I guess. Thanks, dude.”

 

“Don’t mention it .”

 

Prompto swiped on to the next photo. The three faces on the screen caught Noct’s attention instantly: Selphie, flashing an adorable cutesy peace sign; Prompto, wearing a cheesey yet somehow devilishly handsome smirk; and squashed between them, the Ghiranzenator.

 

Dino’s face wasn’t as annoying as it had been in class that morning. It probably helped that his eyes were half-closed, and that the angle of the shot made his nose look too big--nothing like the carefully curated glamor shots on the Ghiranzenator’s feed. Or maybe it was just because Noct was squeezed next to Prompto on the couch with the knowledge that the real Dino was currently somewhere else far, far away.

 

“That’s my buddy Dino,” Prompto explained, interpreting Noct’s silence as confusion. “The one whose birthday it was.”

 

“I know,” Noctis answered quickly--too quickly. “I’ve . . . seen a few pictures of him on your feed.”

 

That was the understatement of the century.

 

“How’d you meet this guy?” he asked, changing the subject.

 

“He’s TA for one of my Journalism classes, but we started hanging out because of this table-top gaming event the role-playing club had on campus.”

 

“Table-top gaming event?” Noct mused. “That sounds kinda neat.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Only thing, you had to sign-up for the events in teams. It was just a few weeks into the semester, and I didn’t really know anybody yet, so I thought I’d just stop by and check it out, y’know? Maybe just watch, chat with some people, make a few new friends . . .” He shrugged. “Funny enough, I ran into Dino. Some guy from his team had bailed last minute, and now they were one person short. They invited me to join, and the rest is history.”

 

Noctis considered the photo as he listened. He remembered how hard it had been for Prompto to make friends growing up, how many insecurities he’d had to overcome before he felt confident enough to talk to people. He’d probably been nervous as hell going to that event alone.

 

Noct was suddenly grateful that Dino had been there.

 

“We should hang out with your friends some time,” he said.

 

Prompto’s eyes widened. “Huh? You really think so?”

 

“‘Course I do. If they’re friends of yours, they gotta be cool, right? We could meet up at an arcade or something.”

 

“S-sure! That’d be awesome.” Prompto was grinning now. A nervous, slightly disbelieving grin but a grin all the same. “I just hope they don’t embarrass me too much. Dino’ll probably try to interview you for the campus newspaper, or something. And Selphie’s gonna lose her shit. She’s got, like, the biggest crush on you.”

 

Prompto was still grinning, but the look he darted at Noctis was cautious--almost sly. That was when it all finally clicked.

 

“Is that why you haven’t brought any of your friends around?” Noctis asked. “Because you’re worried about how they’ll react to the whole prince thing?”

 

The smile faltered. “Kinda,” he admitted. “I’m just worried they’ll come on a little strong at first, y’know? Like the kids in school used to do.”

 

“Yeah, maybe at first,” he agreed. “But once they get to know me, they’ll realize I’m just as big a dork as you are. Besides, if you like them, I’m sure I’ll like them too.

 

“I guess I do have pretty good taste in friends,” he relented, lips twitching. “But what about you?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me about _your_ new friends?”

 

Noctis grimaced. He reached up to scratch his neck. “There . . . aren’t really any.”

 

“ _Pfft_. Whatever. At your fancy school, you probably meet a ton of cool people every day.”

 

The envy in his voice was palpable. Noctis pretended not to notice.

 

“Not really. A six-foot royal shield breathing down my neck doesn’t exactly encourage people to introduce themselves. School is basically just way less fun without you around.”

 

“Yeah right. You have Gladio and Iggy.”

 

Now he was just fishing for compliments. Noct decided to play along.

 

“Gladio’s a hardass sometimes,” he said, “and Iggy doesn’t have your sense of humor. Without you there’s no one around for me to get into trouble with.”

 

He tossed Prompto a playful smirk, earning a shy smile in return. Prompto looked away, his gaze drifting past Noct’s shoulder and through the window behind him.

 

Then he scrambled to his knees.

 

“Dude!” he exclaimed, eyes shining as he peered excitedly through the window. “You seeing this ?!”

 

Noctis craned his neck. Snowflakes danced outside the glass, shrouding the white-capped roofs of the buildings below them. Somewhere in the distance he could make out the dim glow of the citadel, soft and sleepy in the winter night .

 

Prompto dropped his elbows onto the back of the couch with a sigh. “Man. It’s so freakin’ pretty. Like something out of a fairytale.”

 

Noctis hummed in agreement. He could feel the couch cushion shift as Prompto sank back down, chin dropping to rest where his elbows had been just moments earlier. The movement drew Noct’s gaze. He observed his friend’s profile in the lamplight: the gently sloping nose that turned up at the tip like an unasked question; delicate cheekbones with definition sharp enough to draw blood; thin, soft lips, just barely parted.

 

It wasn’t the first time Noctis had seen Prompto _this way_. Sitting in the back of the Regalia on the road trip to Lestallum, he’d noticed the streaks of platinum and gold in the sun-kissed strands of hair wisping around the edge of the front seat. He’d counted the freckles smattered across smooth pecs, shoulders and spindly legs while they splashed around in the waters of Galdin Quay. And how could he forget the feeling of hard, wiry muscles pressed against him as they’d slept beside each other in the tent, back to back. The soft, musky aroma that wafted from beneath the blankets as Prompto shifted, rolling over to face Noctis with a frustrated, nasally grunt. The momentary wrinkle between his brows that would smooth as he settled in, close enough for his breath to tickle Noct’s face . . .

 

“Wonder if Gladio and Iggy made it back yet,” Prompto said suddenly. The reverie dispelled like puffs of smoke.

 

“Y-yeah.” Reluctantly, Noct looked away to reach for his phone. “I guess we should probably check in on ‘em, huh?”

 

He typed a hurried message. Prompto was silent, facing the window. It wasn’t until Noct had locked the phone and set it back on the coffee table that he spoke again.

 

“Hey, I was thinking about the stuff we talked about earlier. Like, on the phone?”

 

Noct’s fingers curled tightly atop his knee.

 

“Er, yeah. About that . . .” His face burned, but he forced himself to look up at Prompto. “Sorry for being such a dick.”

 

The corner of Prompto’s lip curved softly. “You’re forgiven. But I was thinking . . . Maybe you should try talking to your dad about some of that stuff. Sounds like he’d be the only one who could actually relate, y’know? He’d probably have better advice than me or Iggy.”

 

The image of his father’s face, worn and haggard, flashed through Noct’s mind.

 

“Dad’s been kinda busy lately,” he muttered. “I don’t wanna bother him over something small like that.”

 

“Then what about Luna?”

 

Huh. Now there was something he hadn’t considered.

 

“I bet she’s been in similar situations before,” Prompto continued. He tilted his face away from the window to look at Noct, his gaze earnest and gentle. “Plus she seems, like, super smart. Talking to her might help you figure things out. I’m sure it’d beat anything I’d have to say, anyway.”

 

Noctis chuckled quietly. “I dunno, man. Hanging out with you tonight has been doing me a lot of good so far.”

 

“Even if I can’t relate to being a target of political intrigue?” Prompto joked, but his smile was uncertain. “Seriously though, dude. You know I care about you right? The thought that anyone would ever wanna hurt you, or your dad . . .”

 

His eyes tightened. Noctis straightened.

 

“Whoa, dude. No one’s trying to kill me yet, okay? Don’t worry about stuff like that.”

 

Prompto sighed. “I know, I know. Sorry--worrying is kind of my hobby. But I guess what I’m trying to say is, you know you can still talk to me, right? About anything. I can’t always promise that I’ll have the right answers, but I’ll do my best. And no matter what, I’ll be there, ever at your side.”

 

His eyes were warm, like two coals burning softly in a hearth. Noct’s throat tightened.

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

A beat of silence followed. Noctis had never wanted to kiss him more. Prompto must have sensed something off, because he turned away from the window, breaking the quiet with an awkward laugh .

 

“So, uh--you even watching that?”

 

He pointed at the TV. On Extreme Ice Fishing, Navyth was seated before a campfire, listening with an attentive expression to a blond, bearded local.

 

Damn. Noct had forgotten that thing was even still turned on. Before he could even begin to articulate a response, Prompto’s arm flashed out and snatched up the remote.

 

“Sorry dude, but I am not spending an entire snow day on fishing videos. Especially when you’re not even paying attention.”

 

“I was too!” Noct retorted. “C’mon Prom. Hand it over.”

 

He reached for the remote but Prompto ducked aside.

 

“It’s for your own good. You don’t wanna get too _hooked_ on this stuff.”

 

He winked, evidently tickled to death by his own pun.

 

Noctis dove for him.

 

Like most everyone in Noct’s personal life, Prompto had received basic combat training. He was a gunner--naturally swift and agile. He cackled as Noctis continued to grapple for the remote, easily evading his every attempt.

 

“Too slow, bro!” he jeered. “You’re gonna have to work with Gladio on those reflexes if you ever wanna--!”

 

His voice cut off with a hitch. Frustrated, Noctis had resorted to his ultimate weapon: tickling the fuck out of Prompto’s ribcage.

 

“Come again?” Noct purred, fingers dancing with cruel precision. “Didn’t quite catch you at the end there.”

 

“You b-bastard,” Prompto wheezed. He squirmed, inadvertently wiggling deeper into Noctis’s grasp. Grinning victoriously, Noct took this opportunity to wage war on his armpits.

 

Prompto’s squeal was loud enough to wake the neighbors.

 

“C-cut it out, you son of a bitch!”

 

“Give me the remote, and I will!”

 

“Like hell I will! I’m not . . . watching . . . fucking fishing . . .”

 

“It’s Extreme Ice Fishing, you noob!”

 

Prompto managed to wrest himself away from Noct’s grasp. He spun quickly, and in one fluid movement jabbed his pointer finger into the crown prince’s number one weak spot: his bellybutton.

 

Noct’s arms instantly went limp. He doubled over in soundless laughter, barely able to breathe.

 

“A-hah!” Prompto declared triumphantly, finger wiggling viciously into Noct’s hoodie. “How the tables turn. Yield, Prince Noctis or face my wrath!”

 

Noctis tried to jab Prompto away with a half-hearted kick but succeeded only in thrusting them both backward. He was dangerously close to the edge of the couch, the top half of his body hanging precariously off the side. He was just about to tumble over when Prompto finally showed mercy. He flung an arm around Noct’s shoulders, yanking him against his chest. They rolled back onto the couch, Noct ending up on top of Prompto as they lay in a tangle of laughter and limbs.

 

“Get off, dude!” Prompto finally managed to wheeze. “You’re crushing me!”

 

Noctis lifted his head, attempting to push himself up. One look at Prompto’s tomato-red face, and his arms folded like a deck of cards.

 

“S-sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just . . . your face . . .”

 

Prompto’s hands hovered dangerously over Noct’s ribs. He rolled over onto his side, clasping his abdomen defensively. His reaction earned a few more tired, breathless giggles. Eventually the giddiness subsided, leaving behind a warm, pleasant ache in Noct’s cheeks and stomach. For a good while they were still, legs entangled. Prompto raised his arms, clasping his hands behind his head. Noct shifted so that Prompto’s arm was beneath him. He closed his eyes and let his body sink in. ‘There,’ he thought. ‘Much better.’

 

Prompto was the first to break the silence.

 

“I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

 

“Heh. Me either.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“Maybe we should just fall asleep like this.”

 

“Yeah. You’re pretty comfortable.” FUCK. Noctis bit down on his lip. That definitely sounded weird . . .

 

“You’re pretty comfy too, dude.”

 

Prompto’s voice was warm, slightly rough--like a worn, well-loved quilt. Noctis opened his eyes, suddenly desperate to see his expression. What he saw was Prompto staring back, eyes dark, lips dry and pale. They pursed as he wet them. Noct’s gaze followed the movement greedily. He swallowed.

 

Then Prompto raised his head.

 

‘It’s happening,’ Noct thought. He watched, dazed, as Prompto’s face grew closer, neck long and graceful. ‘It’s really happening. Isn’t it?

 

Prompto’s lips parted, and all thoughts ceased. Rolling onto his side, Noctis closed his eyes, neck craning forward . . .

 

Only to nearly be thrown off the couch as Prompto scrambled backward.

 

The fuck? Noct’s eyes flew open. His stomach tightened at the horror written on Prompto’s flushed, bewildered face.

 

“I, I gotta . . . Bathroom,” he stammered. Then he immediately clambered over Noct and crashed onto the floor, tripping as he stumbled to his feet in a hurried dash towards the hall .

 

When the bathroom door slammed shut, it might as well have been a million miles away. Noctis, lying still, stared at the slowly blurring shadows on the ceiling. He clenched his eyes shut, breath hitching he fought against the ache steadily building in the back of his throat.

 

How could he have been so stupid?

 

It wasn’t the first time Noctis had misread a situation. He was an awkward guy and he knew it. But this--this was next level.

 

‘But he was staring at me,’ Noct thought, his inner voice weak and sniveling. ‘And he was getting closer, like he wanted to . . . ’

 

‘Oh come off it!’ he snarked back. ‘As if Prompto would _ever_ wanna kiss you. Last time I checked you weren’t blonde, or busty, or some stupid journalism TA. For Ramuh’s sake, he was probably staring at a booger hanging out of your nose or something. And now he knows you’ve got a massive, raging, hormonal THING for him, so great going, fuck . Way to be an even shittier best friend, you really are setting the bar high today, huh?’

 

There was a muffled ‘thump’ from down the hall. Noctis raised his head. Shit. He’d been so busy out here wallowing in his own self-pity that he hadn’t stopped to consider what Prompto might be feeling. He had to be confused, or disgusted, or freaked out. Heaving a sigh, Noctis forced himself to move. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes before taking five deep breaths: four seconds in, six seconds out, just like his public speaking instructors had always trained him to do. As he rose to his feet, he tried to imagine he was on his way to a press conference. Potential adlibs wafted through his mind.

 

‘Sorry. Guess that beer went straight to my head.’ ‘My mouth was only open because I was holding back a yawn. It’s getting kind of late, right?’ ‘It’s normal for best friends to do this kind of stuff sometimes. Isn’t it?’

 

Gods he was so fucked.

 

He froze just outside the door. He could hear low murmuring from the other side, followed by nervous, desperate laughter.

 

“Prompto?” he called out cautiously. He half-hoped that Prompto couldn’t hear him. If the sudden, descending silence was any indicator, no such luck.

 

Noctis exhaled sharply. Clearing his throat, he rapped a soft knock on the door.

 

“Hey, Prom. Can we talk?”

 

More silence. Then the door opened.

 

Prompto’s cheeks gleamed wetly, like he’d just splashed water on them. It didn’t quite hide the puffy redness rimming his eyes. Pain carved through Noct’s chest like a ragged knife. His face crumpled.

 

“Prompto,” he began. Astrals. It hurt to even speak. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to--”

 

“Dude, relax. It’s cool, I get it. You don’t have to let me down gently.”

 

His tone was excruciatingly chipper . Noctis blinked, whatever apology he’d had queued up dying on his lips.

 

“I mean, if anyone should be apologizing here, it’s me, right?” Prompto continued. “Seriously, talk about a light-weight. Just two beers in and I’m already coming on to my best friend.”

 

The world slowed down. Noct’s shock must have shown on his face, because Prompto gave a harsh chuckle. It was a bitter sound--a hopeless sound.

 

“Yeah, I know. Totally pathetic right? Imagine you, wanting to kiss someone like--”

 

“You like me?”

 

Prompto cringed. “And here I thought I was being so subtle,” he muttered. He glanced aside, and the light caught his eyes. They were glistening. “I mean, the cat’s out of the bag, I guess. So yeah. I . . . like you. Have for years, dude.”

 

It took all of Noct’s strength not to just collapse against the wall.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Prompto went on, his gaze still fixed firmly on anywhere but Noct’s face. “Creepy, right? But seriously, it’s not like that. I mean, I get it. You’re the prince, and I’m . . . well. You know. I just don’t want this to make things weird between us, okay? You’re my best friend, and I--”

 

“It’s not weird.”

 

Prompto’s bravado disappeared. He looked up, eyes round, obviously expecting the worst.

 

Prompto always did expect the worst.

 

“It’s not creepy, either,” Noct said. He crossed his arms, gripping his elbows tightly. Fuck. Why couldn’t he just spit it out already? “Actually, when you . . . I mean, I kinda  wanted you to . . .”

 

“To what?” Prompto’s voice was barely a whisper.

 

“To . . . do it,” he mumbled. His face burned. “Like, for real.”

 

Noctis felt a weight drop from his shoulders. There--he’d said it. Prompto, meanwhile, continued to gawk wordlessly.

 

“Well?” Noctis prompted, lips twitching into a smile. “Are you gonna do it, or not ?”

 

Prompto swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing once, then twice. He stepped forward, sock feet quiet on the wood-paneled floors. Noct’s gaze never left Prompto’s face as he drew nearer, and when he finally felt the touch of his lips, his smile widened.

 

The entire world changed in that one instant, but the world itself seemed none the wiser. The rest of the apartment was still, pillows and blankets strewn across the living room floor exactly where they’d left them. Light filtered softly through the window. A car passed in the street below, its driver unconcerned with any movements in the neat stacks of the surrounding buildings. The plainclothes Crownsguard posted in the lobby watched it go, sucking serenely from a cigarette. It was a slow night. The prince would be snug and safe, he thought. Even royalty couldn’t get themselves in too much trouble with all this snow falling over Insomnia.

 

 

**_PT. X: 23:13 hours_ **

 

The kitchen was dark when Gladio opened the door from the garage. The only light came from the digital clock on the stove and the gently humming ice dispenser. All was quiet.

 

All except for Ignis, at least.

 

“Are we there yet?” he moaned, breath hot against the crook of Gladio’s neck.

 

Wow. That raised associations Gladio sure as hell didn’t want to think about .

 

“Almost,” he muttered. He managed to pull the door mostly closed with his toe, then turned to fumble for the doorknob. It wasn’t easy with a six-foot royal advisor cradled in

his arms in a princess hold.

 

“Mmm. Why’s it so bloody dark?” Ignis grumbled, peering blearily out at the kitchen. “I can’t see a damn thing. Where the hell are we?”

 

Gladio cast an anxious glance towards the parlor. “Shush. Keep your voice down.”

 

“No, _you_ shush!”

 

Ignis pressed a finger sloppily to Gladio’s lips. Then his hand fell away and he dissolved into a fit of giggles .

 

Under different circumstances Gladio probably would have found it amusing to see Iggy in such a playful, unguarded state, but he’d just spent the last hour and a half trying to keep his car on the road. Not to mention the trip had the added special feature of pulling urgently over so that Iggy could spill his guts in the middle of a snowstorm. The only thing Gladio wanted right now was a hot shower and a warm bed.

 

Sighing, he hoisted Ignis more securely against his chest. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

 

Iggy’s mouth clamped shut. He frowned for a second, then shifted.

 

“Am not.”

 

Aside from nearly tripping over Iris’s backpack (dammit, how many times was he going to almost break his neck before she stopped leaving that thing in the middle of the floor?), the journey to the parlor stairs was uneventful. It was made significantly easier by the lack of Clarus’s presence in the house, for which Gladio was grateful. There was no getting past that man. Gladio could still recall an incident from his late teens when he’d tried sneaking out to party with some Crownsguard trainees. He’d come back to find his dad looming over him from the top of the stairs. Hell, Gladio half-expected to see him there now, like some kind of grizzled gargoyle in fuzzy house slippers. Thankfully it was just paranoia.

 

Or so he thought.

 

“Is that you, Gladiolus ?”

 

Gladio’s foot froze on the top step. It was a good thing he’d had reflex training, or he might have dropped Iggy right then and there. Filled with a sense of impending doom, he glanced over his shoulder. In the dim light of the parlor he could make out the hunched figure of an old man peering up owlishly from the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Jared,” he breathed, shoulders loosening. “What are you still doing up? Everything okay?”

 

“Yes. I merely heard a noise and thought I would come to investigate.”

 

Gladio winced. “Er, sorry we woke you. Go on back to bed and get some rest.”

 

“Certainly, but . . . Are you sure you’re all right? Might I be of some assistance?”

 

“No, no. We’re um. We’re good, thanks.”

 

As if on cue, Ignis let out an audible belch, followed by a groan.

 

“Your friend seems a bit . . . out of sorts,” Jared observed. It was too dark to really tell, but Gladio thought he could just make out the hint of a smile in the lines of his face.

 

“Yeah. Turns out my buddy drank more than he could handle. He’s crashing here tonight, if that’s all right.”

 

“Of course. I’ll prepare the guest room.”

 

Jared raised his foot toward the bottom step. Gladio hurried to intervene.

 

“There’s no need! I’m gonna set him up in my room tonight. I, uh, thought he’d be more comfortable there, with the private bathroom and all .”

 

“I understand. Might I fetch some water or medicine for your friend?”

 

Gladio shook his head. “Nah. I got this. You go on back to bed, Jared. Get some sleep.”

 

“If you insist, sir, but please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I’m just down the hall.”

 

Gladio chuckled. “Will do. ‘Night, Jared.”

 

“Night, Jared,” Ignis echoed, his voice thick and slurred.

 

Gladio waited until the familiar padding of Jared’s feet disappeared down the hall, then he headed towards his room. He paused briefly outside of Iris’s door, hearing nothing but silence. That meant the little booger was eavesdropping, otherwise there’d be snores. Whatever, he’d deal with any teasing she had in store for him in the morning. Now to get Iggy in bed . . .

 

Gladio’s room wasn’t exactly in a state for visitors. There was some dirty laundry on the floor and the sheets were in disarray. Magazines and books sat open on the futon across from the bed, and a few dresser drawers had been hurriedly left open. Oh well. Ignis was used to Noctis-level messes. Gladio’s disorganization was nothing in comparison. He lowered Iggy gently onto the bed, which elicited an almost sinful moan. Gladio paused, hand lingering on Ignis’s shoulder.

 

“You okay, Ig? Gonna be sick again?”

 

“Ng--no. Feels good . . .”

 

“Heh. Bet it does. Now let’s get you outta that coat.”

 

“Mmm, yes. Too hot . . .”

 

Gladio helped Ignis roll over, extracting one arm from the coat and then another. He laid it neatly on the end of the bed.

 

“That better?”

 

“No. Still hot.”

 

That was odd, considering the room was practically freezing. Gladio pressed a palm against Iggy’s forehead. A little warm, but nothing alarming.

 

“I’m gonna go get some water,” he said. “You stay put.”

 

Ignis made a soft grunt of assent. Hurrying as quickly as he could without making too much noise, Gladio headed back downstairs to the kitchen. He found a tray with crackers, medicine and a bottle of water waiting for him on the counter. Gladio chuckled. Dammit, how had that old man managed to sneak back through the kitchen already? He must have moved faster than Noctis’s warp strike. Gladio would thank him in the morning. For now, he grabbed the tray and backtracked to his room.

 

Gladio opened the door expecting to find Ignis lying still on the bed. What he found instead was some kind of unkempt, beautiful and debauched young god . In the two minutes Gladio had been gone, Ignis had managed to undo half of the buttons on his vest and dress shirt, exposing his flushed throat. He’d just finished unbuckling his belt when Gladio entered. Skidding to a halt, he watched in a state of frozen awe as Iggy’s fingers worked at the button on his trousers.

 

Gladio’s heart slammed against his ribcage. Damn. There wasn’t a single poem in all of Eos that could capture the beauty of that sight.

 

Too bad Gladio wasn’t a poet. He was, however, disciplined. Swallowing fiercely, he wrenched his focus back to the present moment and approached the bed. He went through the movements like a checklist. Set down the tray. Grab the water bottle. Unscrew the cap. Hold it out to Iggy.

 

“Here. Drink this.”

 

Ignis lifted his head, eyes dazed behind his crooked glasses. Gods be damned. Half-bending awkwardly, Gladio slid an arm under Ignis’s shoulders. When he was sufficiently upright, Ignis took the bottle and brought it to his lips. He then proceeded to spill water down his chin and vest and instantly went into a coughing fit.

 

Gladio snatched the bottle away before he could drop it. He pounded on Ignis’s back nervously.

 

“You good?”

 

“Fuck,” Ignis spluttered. Then, in a voice so sincere it was almost heartbreaking, “Oh _fuck_ , I didn’t get any on the sheets, did I? I’m so sorry, Gladio. After everything you’ve done for me . . . I’m a wreck.”

 

“You’re not a wreck,” Gladio assured him. “Just drunk. And nah. Looks like you took most of the damage. I’ll get ya a towel.”

 

He headed toward the bathroom. Thank gods Jared had remembered to put out clean hand cloths that morning.

 

“But I am a wreck,” Ignis insisted. He was still propped unsteadily on his elbows when Gladio reentered the bedroom. He looked ready to slump face-first into the pillows. “I’ve made a mess of everything. First with Ravus, then Noctis. Now with you . . .”

 

Circling back around the bed, Gladio darted a furtive glance at Iggy’s face. A question poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to spring, but he bit it back. Iggy was drunk. Of course he was gonna say things that didn’t make sense. There was no need to read too far into it. Right?

 

Swallowing his curiosity, Gladio knelt down and removed the crooked spectacles. He placed them carefully on the end table.

 

“You’re a smart guy, Iggy. If you’ve messed anything up, you’ll definitely figure out a way to fix it.”

 

He ignored the annoyed little huff that followed and focused on mopping up the water on Iggy’s throat and chin. He made the mistake of looking up. He’d forgotten how striking Ignis was without his glasses, all sharp, angelic angles and piercing grey eyes, the color of a distant sea under an overcast sky. Except now they were heavy-lidded, narrowed with a vulnerable yearning that sent an arrow of desire through Gladio’s heart and straight to his groin.

 

Gladio dropped the towel and stood .

 

“Let’s get you into something dry,” he said loudly. He went to his dressed and yanked open a drawer. “Noct’ll be pissed if I let you catch cold.”

 

“Noctis, Noctis,” Iggy grumbled. His tone was so sour Gladio could practically taste it. “You’ve got an answer for everything. So brash, so bloody confident. What do you know about any of it, anyway?”

 

This declaration was punctuated by the sound of clothes being tossed aggressively to the floor. Iggy must just be the pissy kind of drunk, because Gladio had no clue what he was talking about. As he continued to rifle through the drawer, his eyes caught on a blue-and-white striped T-shirt. Bingo.

 

“And what about you Mr. Know-It-All?” he quipped, shutting the drawer. “Usually it takes more than one of Noct’s tantrums to get your feathers ruff . . .”

 

His voice trailed off as he turned. Ignis sat on the edge of the bed, looking very annoyed. But that wasn’t what was so distracting. It had more to do with the sharply defined pecs, red and blotchy with alcohol; the firm, tense biceps; the veiny forearms; the narrow, lightly-toned abdomen; the trail of golden-brown hairs that peaked above the waist-band of Ignis’s briefs, visible through the open zipper of his pants . . .

 

“You’re insufferable,” Ignis snapped, as if reading Gladio’s thoughts. “Must you always do that?”

 

A second of confusion followed by guilt, and then Gladio was moving again.

 

“Do what?” he asked calmly.

 

Ignis’s voice was terse as the shirt went over his head. “You always insist on having the last word!”

 

Oh, was that all? Gladio wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.

 

He certainly wasn’t disappointed by the sight of Iggy in his (yes, _his_ , he thought, chest rumbling with sudden possessiveness) T-shirt. The loose neck and sleeves accentuated the lankiness of Ignis’s frame, and with his messy hair it was easy to imagine a different kind of scenario--one where a drowsy, satisfied Iggy had covered himself with the first piece of clothing he’d found on his lover’s floor . . .

 

‘Cool your jets, Romeo. You’re nobody’s lover. Not tonight, at least.’

 

“If you want the last word, you can have it,” he said, tone brisker than he’d intended. “But you gotta get under the covers first.”

 

There was more exasperated grumbling as Ignis collapsed back onto the mattress.

 

“My shoes,” he said stubbornly.

 

Gladio quickly undid the laces of his loafers. He smiled when he saw the Chocobo patterned socks.

 

“Better?” he asked, tossing the shoes aside.

 

“Mm.”

 

“Guess I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

He pulled the duvet back. Ignis squirmed eagerly underneath before rolling onto his back with a sigh. Gladio’s own exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks. He sank down on the edge of the bed.

 

“Need anything else?”

 

“No. I’m sorry I shouted at you. I shouldn’t have said you’re insufferable. You’re not insufferable, Gladio.”

 

He was rambling. Cute.

 

“Guess I’ll let you off the hook this time,” Gladio said, voice reluctant. The fond smile on his face gave him away. “But it’s okay. I know I can be kind of hard-headed. It’s part of my charm.”

 

“I envy you. I get quite jealous over you actually.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I don’t know. For being . . . you, I suppose. The way you are with Noctis. You’re never uncertain, never seem to doubt yourself. Not like me.”

 

“You kidding me?” Gladio scoffed. “Look, Iggy. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. I’m winging it as much as you are. If it looks like I know what I’m doing, it’s just ‘cuz I’ve learned to look the part. So you’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”

 

“But you’re always so sure of yourself with Noct--”

 

“Yeah, ‘cuz I have to be,” he interrupted flatly. “I’m the Royal Shield. Gotta be firm, gotta be decisive. I don’t know . . .” He paused, gaze drifting to the far corner of the room. “Y’know, this is gonna sound stupid, but . . . I had no idea what I was doing with the kid before I met you. Hell, I was just a kid myself. How was I supposed to be anyone’s teacher? Especially a spoiled, snot-nosed baby.”

 

“You always _were_ too hard on him.” Ignis’s eyes narrowed, accusing. Gladio chuckled softly.

 

“Yeah, I was,” he admitted. “Didn’t really like him. Didn’t wanna protect him. I bitched a lot about it in those days. All those were excuses though. You wanna know the truth?”

 

Ignis watched him. His eyes were red and watery, but his gaze was laser sharp. Gladio took a deep breath.

 

“I was . . . nervous, I guess. About fillin’ my dad’s shoes. Seemed like a big responsibility. Shit, I’m still kinda nervous about it if I’m being completely honest.”

 

“Why? You’re a good Shield.”

 

“I’m a _great_ Shield,” Gladio corrected. “But so what? You can be the greatest and still fuck everything up when it matters most. All it takes is one moment, one second of carelessness, and . . .” His hands clenched fistfuls of the duvet. “If I’m confident it’s because I have to be. I can’t afford to fail.”

 

Sudden warmth. Gladio looked down, surprised to see Iggy’s hand wrapped around his own. The words that followed surprised him even more.

 

“If you fail, you won’t be failing alone. We’re all beside you, Gladio. Noctis, Prompto . . . and me. I’m with you. So when you do surely succeed, you better share the credit.”

 

A genuine laugh escaped Gladio’s lips. It morphed into a yawn.

 

“For the love of Ramuh.” He shook his head. “I’m not even the one who’s drunk and I’m spilling my guts. Must be time for bed. See you in the morning, Iggy .”

 

The hand flew to his wrist. “Wait. Stay.”

 

Gladio threw an incredulous look over his shoulder. Ignis squinted up at him, his face tight with yearning and some other emotion that Gladio couldn’t quite discern. His free hand patted the mattress petulantly.

 

Gladio was at a crossroads. On the one hand he’d always dreamed that Ignis would make this sort of request, especially when they’d been on that fucking road trip. It’d been easy to cook up a scenario in his head when they were sharing beds in motel rooms every other night. But this wasn’t a motel room, and right now Ignis was dead drunk.

 

“I . . . don’t think that’s a good idea, Iggy,” he managed at last.

 

The grip around his wrist tightened. “Gladio, please. I don’t want to be alone. Stay with me.”

 

Gladio grit his teeth until his jaw physically ached. Then he did what he always did in moments of uncertainty: he channeled the dilemma into anger and frustration.

 

“Fine,” he barked. “But I’m sleeping on the futon and I don’t want any whining out of you about it.”

 

He tore his wrist free without waiting for a response. Then he stomped around the bed, throwing the light switch off as he went, and flung himself down on the futon.

 

It took several moments of irritable cushion adjustments before he felt composed enough to speak. “How’s this?” he snapped .

 

“. . . Better.”

 

“Good. Now go to sleep.”

 

He waited for another demand, possibly a retort, but none came. The silence settled into heavy breathing. As Gladio’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out Ignis’s profile poking out from among the covers. His eyes were closed.

 

Gladio could have cried from relief.

 

He should have gotten up and gone right then to the guest room, but he decided to wait a little. What if Ignis woke up suddenly? What if he got sick again and couldn’t find the bathroom? What if he blacked out and didn’t remember where he was or how he’d gotten there? No, it was better to hang around just a little bit longer. Besides, the futon didn’t feel so bad, really. A little cold, but not terribly. Warm air was already blowing from the vent in the ceiling. Unlike most houses in Lucis, the Amicitia manor was equipped with central heating. Jared must have turned it on.

 

Blankets rustled. Gladio watched as Ignis rolled onto his side, humming softly in his sleep. Gladio’s own eyes grew heavy. He let them shut. It was just for a moment, of course. After all, he was only going to stay a little while longer.

 

**TBC . . .**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On next week's episode, Noctis learns the importance of communicating clearly. Gladio and Ignis greet a new day.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Stay warm.


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